


in the palm of your hand

by cuubism



Series: TWI!Verse [1]
Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - This World Inverted (Shadowhunters TV), Angst, Anxiety Disorder, Canon-Typical Violence, Dom/sub Undertones, Edom (Shadowhunter Chronicles), Fluff and Angst, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Immortality Issues (Shadowhunter Chronicles), Implied Sexual Content, Love Confessions, M/M, Magic, Past Child Abuse, Past Magnus Bane/Camille Belcourt, Self-Harm, Shadowhunters Tarot Challenge
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-13
Updated: 2020-08-24
Packaged: 2021-02-28 20:00:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 38,027
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23122873
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cuubism/pseuds/cuubism
Summary: “My magic has been quiet for a very long time. But when you grabbed my hand in that alley, well. It came back to life.”“You mean—”“It responds to you. I respond to you. This,” he let the flames flare brighter, “is because of you.” Magnus sighed, watching Alec become enraptured by the glow of the magic. “I feel that… I am these flames, and you are my hand. You hold me, and I come alive again.”
Relationships: Alec Lightwood & Isabelle Lightwood, Alternate Magnus Bane/Alternate Alec Lightwood (Shadowhunters: This World Inverted), Magnus Bane & Ragnor Fell & Catarina Loss & Raphael Santiago, Magnus Bane/Alec Lightwood
Series: TWI!Verse [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1691824
Comments: 135
Kudos: 295
Collections: Shadowhunters Tarot Challenge





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SH Tarot Challenge Prompt 1: The Magician

“So do you do palm readings?” 

Magnus blinked at the sudden question, looking up from his book to meet Alec’s gaze. His boyfriend—and it still felt strange to say that word after so long closing himself off to anyone who tried to get near—was watching him intently, something mischievous sparking in his gaze.

“It’s not my specialty,” Magnus said, closing his book, “but yes. Why?” 

“Will you read mine?” 

Magnus’s cheeks heated unexpectedly at the request, but he took Alec’s proffered hand, cradling it in his own. “This is—” 

He could barely get out a word before Alec was twisting his hand to take hold of Magnus’s, a cheeky grin on his face.

Magnus narrowed his eyes. “Was that just an excuse to hold my hand?” 

“Maybe.” 

Alec looked so pleased with himself for the minor deception. Magnus couldn’t deny that the warmth of Alec’s palm against his own was quite pleasant, especially when Alec ran his thumb back and forth over his pulse point like that. 

“Do you want me to read it or not?” 

Alec flipped his hand back over to its original position. “Sorry, yes.” 

Magnus hummed, looking down at his palm, deciding to skip right to the line he was most interested in.

“This is your heart line.” He traced it with a light touch, not missing the way it made Alec shiver. “See how strong the curve is? That means you’re straightforward with your emotions when you care about someone.” 

“That’s true enough.” 

“And see how it ends right below your middle finger?” Magnus’s lips quirked up in a small smile. “This indicates a pure and true love.” 

Alec frowned at him, though his eyes were sparkling. “You’re not just messing with me, are you? Is this your version of flirting?” 

“I promise I’m not.” 

“Go on, then.” 

Magnus ran a finger along the swooping line under Alec’s thumb. “This one is your life line. A strong, heavily-curved line such as this suggests energy and enthusiasm.” That certainly described Alec. Magnus leaned in to take a closer look at some of the details of the line. 

“When it’s broken like this, that means—” He stopped suddenly. 

_It means injury. Injury or illness. Though Alec was young and fit, so illness was relatively unlikely. But a catastrophic injury? That could strike anyone at any time. Just as an accident—_

“Magnus?” Alec was still watching as Magnus silently spiraled. “Everything okay?”

Magnus dropped Alec’s hand. “I shouldn’t waste your time with this parlor trick.” 

Alec chuckled nervously. “I’m not gonna die or something, am I?” 

“No, of course not, darling,” Magnus reassured him, patting him on the arm for good measure.

Alec still looked a little spooked. Magnus couldn’t really blame him, considering he could hardly get his own expression under control. 

He’d meant it when he said palm reading was a parlor trick. Well… _mostly._

But now that the thought was lodged in Magnus’s head, he couldn’t help but feel a little unnerved.

“Is this okay?” 

Alec was so cautious in touching him. He always asked before so much as holding Magnus’s hand. As they walked back from dinner, he was hovering his hand over Magnus’s lower back, waiting to see if he’d be allowed to place it there.

“Yes, of course, darling.” 

Sometimes, Magnus wished Alec would just take what he wanted. But he didn’t know how to say that while also expressing his appreciation for how adamant Alec was in respecting his boundaries.

Alec laid his hand on his back, and it was a comforting connection, the warmth of him bleeding through Magnus’s jacket. 

He felt so _warm_ when Alec touched him, not just at the point of contact but all over, like he was made stronger by the touch, the cracks in his heart filled in with gold pouring from Alec’s veins. 

Magnus leaned against Alec, relishing in the flood of warmth all along his side. He was content to just walk in silence, listening to Alec breathe beside him, taking in the cool night air.

He had just let himself close his eyes, trusting his boyfriend to guide him, when Alec stiffened.

“Who’s there?” he called out. 

Magnus opened his eyes and followed Alec’s gaze. 

Twenty-or-so feet ahead, a large, humped shadow was rooting around in a trash can. It _could’ve_ been a racoon. If it were five times _smaller._ A chill ran up Magnus’s spine.

Alec had probably assumed it was a mugger or some such person of ill-intent. Trust him to feel duty-bound to confront them instead of _turning around_ like a reasonable person. 

Alec’s stance relaxed as he, apparently, came to the conclusion that the ‘person’ was harmless. “If you need change to get something to eat, we can help out,” he called down the road, “you don’t need to dig through the trash.” 

_Oh, sweet innocent Mundane,_ Magnus thought, _that’s no human you’re trying to help._

Magnus grabbed Alec’s arm and tugged. “Let’s go.” 

Alec turned to Magnus with a frown. “Don’t you wanna—” 

“Alec, _now."_

Alec must have picked up on the fear in Magnus’s expression, for his eyes widened. He let Magnus turn him— 

It was too late. 

The sound of trash crunching stopped abruptly. Two orange eyes blinked up at them, and there was a loud, wet _huff._

They wouldn’t outrun it now.

“Magnus?” 

“Get behind me.” 

Alec just stared at him. The order must have sounded ridiculous to him. Not only was Magnus physically smaller, but he was also—to Alec’s mind, at least—essentially gentle and bookish, not the type of person who’d do battle in a dark alley. Meanwhile Alec was trained in several forms of martial arts and worked out daily. Why on earth would he let Magnus protect him? 

Magnus rubbed sweating hands on his pant legs, hoping to god that he’d be able to summon his magic. Never mind that revealing it would likely blow up his relationship with Alec, he had bigger concerns.

Like the six-legged wolf demon currently crawling out of the shadows.

Magnus had suspected—had known, even—that it was a demon, but he hadn’t _believed._ Because that was—

“You’re impossible,” he whispered, staring at its glowing eyes, its two rows of teeth. 

“Yeah, no shit!” Alec yelped, his voice shooting up an octave. “What the hell is that thing?!” 

“Demon,” Magnus said softly. “Stay behind me.” 

“A WHAT!?”

The demon crept closer, scenting out its prey.

“Is this one of those, like, prank shows? Because if so, consider me pranked! You can stop now!” 

Alec should have known better than to think Magnus would ever do something so stupid and cruel.

“It’s not—” he started to say—

And the demon leapt right for him, dozens of teeth bared. 

Magnus called all of his magic to his hands—it started to congeal in a swirling ball of red between his fingers—but it wasn’t enough, it wasn’t _fast enough—_

Alec grabbed his hand.

And suddenly magic was pouring through his veins, bursting out of his fingertips—

—and Alec was yanking him out of the way—

—which put _him_ in the path of the teeth—

—which closed around his shoulder—and he _screamed,_ and the sound would echo in Magnus’s nightmares—

—and then Magnus’s magic was slamming into the demon, shattering it into dust. 

As soon as it started, it was over. 

Magnus crumpled to the pavement beside Alec, who was curled up on the ground, shaking, clutching his shoulder. Blood poured out between his fingers, _so much blood—_

“Easy, darling,” Magnus tried to say, voice trembling, heart racing in his chest. “Easy, let me see—” 

“What— what did you _do?”_

“I banished it.” 

“But _how?”_

Magnus placed a hand on his forehead. It was already clammy. “Shh. I’ll explain everything later. Right now, I just need you to lie still.” 

“Is— is this a nightmare? Am I losing my mind?” Alec’s eyes were panicked, and it was startling to see his normally unshakeable boyfriend looking so terrified. 

Magnus knew that he’d probably ruined them—surely no relationship could survive this?—but he banished the thought from his mind. Right then, he just needed to save Alec.

“This may feel a little strange,” he warned, hoping his voice sounded steadier than he felt, and then he was pressing any magic he could summon into the gashes in Alec’s shoulder.

Alec tried to jerk away from him. “What are you _doing?_ Shouldn’t you call an ambulance?” His voice sounded fainter already, he was fading fast. 

“They can’t help with this.” And neither, it seemed, could Magnus—his magic didn’t seem to be having any effect on the wound. Each gash that he closed just reopened, seeping black sludge onto Alec’s skin. _“Damnit!”_

“...Magnus?” 

“It’s alright, darling, it will be alright.” 

Alec flailed for him with an uncoordinated hand. “Everything’s _spinning._ Why is it _spinning?”_

“Don’t think about it. Look at me.” Magnus turned Alec’s face towards him.

Alec squinted up at him. His eyes were glassy already. “Which _one_ of you? There’s _three."_

Magnus swallowed against the lump in his throat. “Whichever you like.” 

“I like…” Alec’s head lolled back against the ground. His eyes started to close. “... _all_ of them. I like… _you."_

Magnus tried to open a portal. Nothing.

“Hey, hey. _Hey,”_ Alec said, though Magnus hadn’t said anything. His hand found Magnus’s face. “Magnus. Listen.” 

Magnus tried to open a portal again. “I’m listening.” 

_"Listen."_ His voice was slurred. “S’im _portant."_

“You have my attention, dear.” _You always have my attention._ “What is it?” 

Alec blinked, long and slow, like he’d lost his train of thought. Then he smiled up at Magnus. “I love you.” 

Magnus ripped open the fabric of the air, crafting a portal out of sheer anger and grief. Of course Alec had to choose _now_ to say that to him for the first time, just for the sheer _drama_ of it all—to remind Magnus _now,_ when he was on the verge of losing everything, that, new as they were, he hadn’t loved a partner like this in _centuries._

He hauled Alec up in his arms, staggering a little under his weight. “I love you, too, Alexander. So much I don’t know what to do with it.” 

Sometimes, Magnus felt like his body wasn’t made for the depth of emotion it experienced. It felt like it should break down or burst from the pressures of his heart. Like now, when Alec went limp in his arms, his head lolling back against Magnus’s shoulder. 

Magnus wasn’t even sure he had heard him.

He stepped through the portal back into the loft, depositing Alec on the couch. Here, under better lights, he could really see the damage—the deep puncture wounds in his shoulder, the _blood,_ so much blood— 

Magnus had known that the Shadow World would eventually come for his relationship with Alec, but he hadn’t expected it to be like _this._

“Stay still, love. Don’t move!” he called over his shoulder as he ran to his apothecary. Alec didn’t respond.

Magnus dove into the room, rummaging around, throwing ingredients haphazardly into a cauldron. Fortunately, healing potions were hardy and didn’t require precise measurement. Soon enough, he had it ready, and was sprinting back out into the living room to skid to a stop by Alec’s head. 

His love was still and pale, sweat beading on his brow. Magnus cut open the sleeve of his polo shirt to expose the wounds, slathering on copious amounts of the potion. 

“There you are, that’s it. You’ll feel better soon.” He _had_ to. 

Magnus watched anxiously as the potion dried, sucking the poison out of the wounds. But when it was done, the wounds remained gaping open, weeping now-clean blood. Magnus pressed more magic into them with trembling hands. No dice. 

He tried again, murmuring, “Come on, love. You can do it. Come _on,_ Alexander.” 

Alec’s breathing slowed further. He was incredibly pale. Bleeding out. 

“No,” Magnus whispered. Then, louder: “No. No! Alexander, don’t do this to me. We were supposed to—” all Magnus’s energy left him in an instant. He slumped to the floor. “We were supposed to have more time,” he breathed. 

Alec’s hand twitched and touched Magnus’s. Magnus jolted at the spark of energy that arced between them. 

Wait. Was it possible…? 

He thought back to the demon attack, how Alec had grabbed his hand. How Magnus’s magic had surged at the contact.

In the next second he was hurtling to his bedroom, coming to a violent stop against his nightstand, rummaging through the upper drawer. It had been _years,_ but he must still have it, mustn’t he? 

He plucked the stele gingerly from the drawer, still unused, even after all this time, to the idea that it _wouldn’t_ burn his fingers. He carried it back to Alec’s side, and then, with the glowing red tip poised above Alec’s skin, hesitated. 

By all odds, it made _sense_ that it should work. The way Magnus’s magic had reacted to Alec’s touch, like Alec carried his own magic inside him—the fact that, when Clary from the alternate universe had visited, she’d said that the whole group were Shadowhunters there. 

But if Magnus were wrong, he wouldn’t just kill Alec. No, it would be far worse than that. 

Alec stirred again beneath him, breath hitching painfully. And Magnus made his decision. He would rather try to save Alec and fail than not try at all. He had spent a long time letting the currents push him where they would. No longer. 

He pressed the tip of the stele to the inside of Alec’s wrist and drew an _iratze._

The stele resisted Magnus’s touch, but eventually took to Alec’s skin, the thick black lines of the rune standing out starkly against his pale complexion. Magnus held his breath while the mark flared.

The magic sank into Alec’s body, and Magnus almost collapsed in relief when the gashes in Alec’s shoulder slowly knit together and he began to breathe easier.

Hands shaking, Magnus drew a blanket over Alec’s now-peacefully sleeping form. 

He’d have _a lot_ of explaining to do in the morning.

“Magnus, what the _fuck.”_

Magnus jerked awake in the armchair he’d collapsed into, disturbing Church from where he’d curled up in his lap. His presence, in itself, was disturbing. Church never tried to comfort _anyone._

As the cat jumped to the floor, Magnus turned to his boyfriend, who was now sitting up, looking much better, but tense, looking—

—at the black mark inscribed on his skin.

Alec looked up at him, eyes wide in alarm, but still _trusting._ Magnus hated that he’d have to shatter that trust. 

“How are you feeling?”

Alec’s nose scrunched up. “Fine, I guess? Why, what happened? Did I get super drunk and get a tattoo?” 

He didn’t sound like he would be terribly surprised if that were the case. For an instant, Magnus toyed with letting him believe that version of events. But he pushed the thought aside almost as soon as it had arisen. Alec deserved better than that. 

“What do you last remember?” 

“Coming home from dinner, we ran into a—” Alec jerked as it came back to him, turning a shaken gaze on Magnus. He pulled the blanket tighter around himself, drawing his legs up to his chest. “That _thing—_ with the _teeth—_ and you did something with your _hands—”_

He was spiraling quickly. Magnus reached out a hand to steady him, wrapping it around his ankle. “Easy, breathe, it’s okay now—” 

“How are you doing that?” 

Magnus blinked, following Alec’s gaze down to where his palm was pressed to his skin. Without Magnus’s conscious consent, calming blue magic was seeping out of his hand.

Magnus jerked his hand away, heart racing. How _was_ he doing that? He hadn’t had such easy access to his magic in decades. 

He remembered the night before, when Alec had grabbed his hand and sparks had, _literally,_ flown.

_Oh._

Instead of following that thought down its deep rabbit hole, Magnus took a shaky breath and refocused on the man sitting before him. “There’s something I need to tell you.”

“You’re part of a cult,” Alec guessed. 

Magnus blinked. “What—”

“That’s what this is, isn’t it?” Alec pointed to the rune. “Like a cult initiation symbol? Am I a part of—”

“Oh, my god, _no,”_ Magnus said. “I’m not part of a cult.” _Although,_ he thought, _that might actually be easier to explain._ He showed Alec his hand, willing small flames to flicker to life in his palm. “I’m a Warlock.”

Alec’s eyes widened, though he didn’t look _afraid_ per say. More cautious and curious. “As in—” 

“As in, a being who can use magic.” Magnus left out the part about immortality, for now. One relationship hurdle at a time. 

“Magic, huh?” Alec was fixated on the flames dancing in Magnus’s palm. He reached out to touch them. “Can I—?” 

“It won’t hurt you,” Magnus assured him, hardly daring to breathe as Alec dipped his fingers into the fire. He couldn’t believe Alec actually wanted to _touch_ his magic, couldn’t believe he hadn’t immediately leapt over the back of the couch and fled the apartment. 

“Huh,” Alec mused, “tickles.” He wrapped his hand around Magnus’s, extinguishing the flames. 

“It _tickles?_ That’s all you have to say?” 

Alec shrugged. “I don’t know, what did you want me to say? I could ask a gazillion questions but I kind of figured you didn’t want to talk about it if you waited so long to bring it up.” 

“Ask them.”

“Okay,” Alec frowned in thought. “Is that what you did last night? Magic?” 

“To banish the demon? Yes.” 

_Demon,_ Alec mouthed, rolling the word over his tongue. “There’s such thing as demons?” 

“Not anymore,” Magnus said. “Well, not _usually,”_ he corrected himself. “I will have to look into it. They’re supposed to be extinct in this realm.” 

Alec was silent for a moment as he processed this. “You seem to know a lot about this.” For the first time, Magnus heard a hint of uncertainty in his tone.

Heart inching up his throat, Magnus didn’t know what else to say other than, “Yes. I suppose I do.” 

“So there’s just this— what, this whole other world out there?” 

“You could say that.” 

Alec looked down at his hands, one of which was still wrapped around Magnus’s. “A world you’re a part of and I’m not.” 

_“No.”_ Magnus tugged on his hand until Alec looked back up at him. “No, darling, that’s just it. You’re part of it, too.”

He pointed to the rune slowly fading on Alec’s arm. “You see this? This is a healing rune. Not just any human could bear this mark. You have magic in you as well.”

Alec frowned, ghosting his fingers over the rune. “So does that mean I’m a War—”

“Not a Warlock,” Magnus corrected, “a Shadowhunter. Angelic demon hunters from the distant past. They faded away after the last of the demons were destroyed.” He paused, thinking. “Although, if demons are afoot, there may come a time soon when we need Shadowhunters again.”

Alec just stared at him, looking totally lost. Magnus cupped his cheek. “Why don’t we talk about it more later? This is a lot, and you’ve just had a scare.”

“Yeah, did you— did you save my life?” 

Magnus blinked. “I suppose I did. Only after you saved mine, though.” 

“You _saved_ my _life.”_

“Yes, dear, that’s what I said.” 

Alec was looking at Magnus like he was standing on the ceiling. 

“Is there a problem?” Magnus asked. 

“No, it’s just—” Alec shrugged helplessly. _“You,_ you’re so— gentle, and you— you murdered a _demon_ for me.” 

A small smile tugged at Magnus’s lips. “Oh? And how do you feel about that?” 

Alec grinned at him crookedly. “Kinda like it.” 

“Oh, really?”

“Yeah,” Alec leaned in to kiss him, and this time he didn’t need to ask before he touched Magnus—Magnus was already leaning in to meet him, chasing the comfort of Alec’s lips, the gentle touch of Alec’s fingertips as they cupped the back of his head.

Alec pulled back after a moment to rest his forehead against Magnus’s. “Are you okay?”

“I was scared,” Magnus admitted. “I almost lost you.” 

Alec ran a hand through Magnus’s hair. “It’s all okay now.” 

And really, Magnus should be the one telling that to him. “I didn’t know if I’d get to keep you.” 

“You mean when that fucked-up dog thing almost ripped off my arm?” 

“No,” Magnus said, “when you found out what I was.” 

Alec pulled back so he could look Magnus in the eye, concerned. “You really thought I would just leave?” 

“It’s not exactly a _normal_ thing to ask someone to deal with in a relationship, Alexander. I thought you’d be scared, or overwhelmed.”

“Scared of _you?_ Never. You’re like the kindest, gentlest person I’ve ever met.” 

“A kind, gentle person who just disintegrated a demon with one blow,” Magnus pointed out.

“So a soft-hearted badass, then. What’s not to love?” As soon as he said it, he stilled, then closed his eyes and said, softly, _“fuck.”_

Magnus swallowed hard. He’d known, he must have known that Alec hadn’t meant it last night, but he’d allowed himself to hope—

“I didn’t mean to say that this early,” Alec said. 

Magnus looked up at him, hope fluttering anew in his chest. “You said it last night,” he said quietly, “though you were quite delirious at the time. It’s alright, you can take it back—” 

“No! Magnus—” Alec reached out to cup his face. “I don’t wanna take it back. I just didn’t want to overwhelm you.” 

Didn’t Alec understand that he _did_ overwhelm Magnus, but in the best way? When Alec touched him he felt like he was burning from the inside out, like he was aglow, like his soul had finally found the place where it was meant to curl up and be protected. 

“I love you,” Alec said again, “so much.” 

“I love you, too,” Magnus said, the truth of it settling warmly in his chest like a missing piece. 

Alec looked hesitant. “You don’t have to say it just because—” 

Magnus couldn’t have this. “Please look,” he interrupted, opening a palm between them and letting blue flames dance there again. “My magic has been quiet for a very long time. But when you grabbed my hand in that alley, well. It came back to life.” 

“You mean—”

“It _responds_ to you. I respond to you. This,” he let the flames flare brighter, “is because of _you.”_ Magnus sighed, watching Alec become enraptured by the glow of the magic. “I feel that… I am these flames, and you are my hand. You hold me, and I come alive again.” 

Alec’s head jerked back up to look at him. _“Magnus.”_

Magnus closed his fingers over the flames. Maybe, this time, _he_ would ask for touch. “Will you hold me?” 

Alec folded him in his arms, pulling Magnus’s head to his shoulder. Magnus breathed him in, the last vestiges of fear in his system finally fading away.

“Always,” Alec was saying into his hair, “always.”

Magnus just stayed still, relishing in the warmth, in how their relationship had fundamentally changed, but also, hadn’t at all. 

“You know,” Alec said after a while. “This is kind of weird. Not in a bad way! I just mean… we haven’t even had sex yet.” 

Magnus’s laugh was startled out of him. “Well,” he said, leaning back from Alec, “you haven’t asked.” 

Alec stared at him. “Does that mean what I think it means?” 

Magnus just winked. 

Alec collapsed dramatically back onto the couch. “Magnus, come _on.”_

“You have no one to blame but yourself, darling.” 

“I was trying to go slow, _for you!_ I assumed—”

“Never assume. It makes an—” 

“Please, for the love of god, don’t say it.” 

Magnus grinned at him, thoroughly enjoying watching his normally put-together boyfriend unravel like this.

“You know, _you_ could have said something,” Alec said. 

Magnus shrugged. “I was rather enjoying all the _longing_ glances, the _lingering_ touches, who was I to—” 

He was cut off as Alec lunged forward to kiss him, a messy kiss, all tongue and heat that curled down into Magnus’s belly.

“What do you say,” Alec murmured into his mouth, the rumble of his voice sending a spark down Magnus’s spine, “we go remedy this situation immediately.”

Magnus couldn’t deny that, as much as he’d enjoyed letting the tension build between them, he’d also been craving this release. He buried a hand in Alec’s hair and _pulled,_ feeling Alec jolt against him at the touch. 

“I think that sounds like a wonderful idea, my love.” 

Alec stood, tugging Magnus to his feet and backing him towards the bedroom. “So does this, uh…” he waved a hand in an approximation of Magnus’s magic, “have any, uh… benefits?” 

Magnus feigned ignorance, frowning. “Benefits?” 

“You _know_ what I _mean.”_

Magnus trailed a finger down Alec’s chest and zapped him with a little burst of magic. Alec jumped. 

Magnus grinned up at him, stomach fluttering at how Alec’s eyes darkened. “Guess you’ll have to find out, won’t you?”

And then Alec was kissing him again, and Magnus’s eyes were closing as he let Alec’s hands, gentle and reverent and blisteringly hot, guide him into the bedroom and down onto the bed, and it was terrifying, how his whole being rose and caved to one person’s touch, but after so long holding back, it also felt like the most beautiful relief. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TWI!Malec are soft and I'm weak for them. 
> 
> Having some Thoughts about TWI!Magnus and touch... might post a follow-up chapter, haven't decided yet. 
> 
> Come find me on tumblr @cuubism to talk about Shadowhunters, send prompts, or whatever strikes your fancy.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> surprise second chapter that's also... not at all what I promised when I said I might write a second chapter. whoops 
> 
> but it _is_ a prompt fill for week 4 of SH Tarot Challenge: The Wheel of Fortune - and only two months late!
> 
> cw for light d/s and discussions of self-harm

“These ‘runes’ are really something, huh?” Alec said, rolling up his sleeve to look for the third time in as many minutes at the healed wound on his shoulder. He knew he was being neurotic about it, but it was just… there wasn’t even a _scar._

Magnus smiled over the rim of his mug. “They _are_ magic.”

“I know, but…” Alec ran his hand over the unmarred skin. “It’s like nothing even happened.”

It wasn’t like he would have preferred spending days in the hospital getting the gashes treated, but it was unsettling. He was used to things having… _aftershocks._ Consequences. Not just vanishing into thin air.

Last night they had fought a demon—a _demon_ —and Alec had nearly died, and Magnus had used _magic_ —which was apparently real—to save him, and now they were just— sitting here, drinking coffee as if nothing had changed.

Maybe nothing had. Maybe he was just overthinking things, as usual.

Magnus was frowning now. “Alexander? Are you alright? You seem anxious.”

But that was the thing. Alec was _always_ anxious. It was what made him good at event planning—he thought everything through in advance to a ridiculous degree of detail, which mitigated most of the potential catastrophes—but it made the rest of his life difficult. He had gotten good at hiding it, coping with it, over the years— but apparently not enough to hide it from Magnus.

But this wasn’t what he wanted to be dominating his life right now. Especially not when something _else_ pretty monumental had just happened.

He shook himself and grinned wickedly at his boyfriend. “I’m great. I feel like I’m glowing.”

Magnus squinted at him, a hint of a smirk playing on his lips. “I don’t think that’s from the rune.”

Alec could barely contain his delight. Getting Magnus to actually flirt back at him was still a challenge, even though he knew how witty and playful Magnus could be when he let his guard down. Magnus was far from timid or inexperienced in bed—a fact which, as of this morning, Alec had seared in his memory in vivid colors—and Alec was determined to draw that side of him out in their day to day lives. _Some_ how.

He wanted to quip something back, keep the volley going, but now he was just imagining getting Magnus’s hands on him again, watching his hair shake loose of its careful stylings, and it was thoroughly distracting, so all he managed was, “We could go again? If you want?”

A little too blunt, a little too eager. But that sort of thing seemed to charm his boyfriend, so he hoped it was fine.

Magnus fidgeted a little, like he was thinking about it too, but then he sighed. “Tragically, I have a prior appointment. But perhaps later?”

“It’s a date.” Alec stood up from the table, stretching his arms over his head. He still felt a little _weird,_ kind of jittery, and it wasn’t from the sex. The walk to work would do him good. “If you’re meeting someone, I should probably head out.”

Magnus frowned. “Nonsense, you know you’re always welcome here.”

Warmth bloomed in Alec’s chest at the sentiment, and he imagined the day—not _yet_ , they were still so new, but _eventually_ —that he would get to wake up every morning by Magnus’s side, Magnus’s sleep-rumpled face on the pillow next to his just a fact of existence. When he would come home every night to the warm lights of Magnus’s— _their_ —loft to fall asleep beside him again.

One day.

He walked around the table to place a soft kiss on Magnus’s lips. “I appreciate that, but I’m actually supposed to go meet with a caterer for this wedding that’s this weekend.”

“Mm, pressing matters. I won’t keep you, then.”

The words landed weird in Alec’s chest, and he recalled what Magnus had said last night: _I didn’t know if I’d get to keep you._

The uncertainty in that sentiment unsettled him. He’d told Magnus how he felt, but he wasn’t sure that was enough, if Magnus had truly believed him.

As Magnus walked him to the door, he wanted to say, _you can keep me. Keep me for as long as you like._

Instead, he leaned down to kiss him again, and said, “I love you.”

What he hadn’t told Magnus was that he had never said that to a romantic partner before. Had never _felt it_ before. Before Magnus, Alec hadn’t been sure he would even know the feeling when it hit him.

But he did.

They were still so new, but he _knew_ he loved Magnus like he knew his own name.

He’d figure out a way to prove it to him.

Magnus cupped his cheek. “I love you, too. Are you sure you’re feeling okay?”

“I’m good. I mean, I’m gonna take it easy with the shoulder for a few days, but I’m good.”

Magnus scrutinized him for a moment, then his expression cleared. “Good.”

“Are you wearing a _cardigan?”_

Alec still had an hour before he was supposed to meet the caterer, so he took his sister out for coffee.

His sister who was now repaying this act of generosity by criticizing his fashion choices.

“What’s wrong with that?”

Izzy narrowed her eyes, sharp and amused. “It’s Magnus’s, isn’t it?”

Alec sighed, wrapping the garment tighter around himself. “It’s _comfy.” And_ it smelled like Magnus, but he wouldn’t tell her that.

“And it smells like him,” she said, chortling with glee. “Oh my God, you’re in _so_ deep.”

“You’re one to talk. You brought Simon with you to Comic Con after only dating for two _weeks._ ”

“And it paid off, didn’t it?”

Alec couldn’t deny that.

Izzy shrugged. “Sometimes deep is good.”

“Yeah.” Alec couldn’t hold back his smile. “I told him I love him.”

“What!” Izzy squealed, covering her mouth with both hands. “Alec, that’s amazing! He said it back, right?”

“Yeah. Somehow.” He still couldn’t believe his luck that Magnus actually felt that way, about _him._

Izzy whacked his arm. “Shut up with that ‘somehow.’ He adores you, you idiot.”

“I know, I know. You’re right.”

That wasn’t the only monumental change that had happened last night. He had also learned that magic was _real._

God, Izzy would love to hear about that. With her passion for all things science—both fact and fiction—she’d go _ballistic_ if she got to see Magnus use magic. The revelation was on the tip of Alec’s tongue—

Wait.

Magic was secret. That had to be for a reason. Of course, he’d trust Izzy with anything, but Izzy would tell Simon, and Simon couldn’t keep a secret to save his life, and then—

If the secret got out, would Magnus be in danger?

“Hey,” Izzy waved a hand in front of his face. “Earth to Alec. You still here?”

Alec shook himself. “Yeah, sorry.” He tried to drag himself back to the present. “You were going to tell me about your research?”

Izzy grinned, and launched into a long, overly-technical explanation of her lab’s advances in forensic science. Most of it went over Alec’s head, but he didn’t mind, knowing how much Izzy enjoyed talking about her work.

Normally, Alec prided himself on being a good listener, but he was struggling today, his attention continuously drawn by passersby. He kept thinking, _is that person a Warlock? A Demon? How far does this magical alternate world go?_

When they parted ways, Izzy patted his shoulder, looking at him with some concern, like she could sense that his mind wasn’t with her. And as Alec walked away, he found himself picking at the skin of his hands, trying to give his restless body some kind of outlet.

“Hey babe, I brought you some cake samples,” Alec called out as he let himself into the loft. He knew how much Magnus enjoyed the desserts from the expensive bakeries Alec frequented as part of his job, and always tried to finagle some extra catering samples for him. 

But the loft stayed quiet, and there was no response from his boyfriend.

“Magnus?”

As Alec moved towards the kitchen, he could hear faint voices.

“Something’s up, Magnus,” Cat was saying, “something’s changing. Can’t you feel it?

“The ley lines are stirring,” Magnus agreed quietly. “I haven’t sensed anything like it in centuries.”

Something about the way he said _centuries_ stuck in Alec’s ribs strangely, but he dismissed it as a figure of speech.

“And that demon you ran into,” Cat continued. “I don’t like it.”

Alec reached the kitchen and leaned on the doorjamb. Magnus and Cat were leaning against the counter, glasses of wine in hand, clearly engaged in an intense discussion. Magnus smiled when he caught sight of Alec—who waved, bag of sweets still in hand—and straightened up. Cat followed Magnus’s gaze and stiffened. She smiled at him, but there was an uncertain quality to it.

Just like that, their conversation topic evaporated, and Alec didn’t think it was because they were done talking.

“Did your meeting go alright, darling?” Magnus asked, already reaching into a cabinet to grab Alec a glass.

“It was okay. I brought you something from the caterer.” He placed the cake on the counter, hiding a smile at the gleam in Magnus’s eyes, and turned to Cat. “Catarina, how are you?”

She was eyeing him strangely, evaluative and wary. “Overworked,” she said. Her gaze drifted to his shoulder. “And you?”

As Magnus placed a glass of wine in front of him, Alec shrugged. To say he was fine felt a little anticlimactic, in light of everything. “Still here,” he joked.

It was apparently the wrong thing to say. Magnus looked at him sharply, concerned, and Alec found that the expression got under his skin, made him shift on his feet.

“You guys know you can keep talking if you want?” he said impulsively, trying to diffuse the tension. “I mean, you’re a Warlock, too, right?” —this to Cat.

It had clicked suddenly in his mind, watching them. Magnus and Cat were very different people. But there was something similar to the way they moved, like the same energy coiled inside them. They had a similar stillness, too, a similar wisdom.

Cat flinched, staring at him with wide eyes, then turned her gaze, slowly, to Magnus. “Magnus?”

Alec felt like maybe he had just done something he shouldn’t, though he didn’t know what. It was a feeling he seemed to be blundering into over and over today. He really wished the invisible walls of this new world would start showing themselves. 

“He figured that out on his own,” Magnus said. “I only told him about me.”

“So you are?” Alec asked Cat.

She watched him warily, then sighed. “Don’t go spreading that around.”

Alec raised innocent hands. “I won’t. I promise.” But _so_ many questions were balancing on his lips. Just how far did this go? How many of the seemingly-ordinary people he passed each day on the street were actually magical?

He remembered what Magnus had said last night— _you have magic in you as well_ —and suppressed a shiver. At first, he had been glad to hear that, glad that Magnus wouldn’t be going off into some alternate universe that Alec couldn’t follow him to, but now, he wasn’t so sure. He didn’t know what he was getting into. And the last thing he needed was a bunch of strange new rules throwing off his carefully crafted equilibrium.

“May I see the wound?” Cat asked, snapping him out of his thoughts. “I know it’s healed, but Magnus wanted me to take a look at it, if you’re amenable.”

Getting someone with actual medical expertise to look at a near-fatal wound was probably a good idea.

Alec unbuttoned his shirt and slipped it off his shoulder, smirking a little at how Magnus’s gaze drifted towards him and then carefully away.

Cat, a consummate professional, squinted at where the rune— _iratze,_ Magnus had said—was still scrawled on his forearm in faint, looping lines. Then she prodded at his shoulder with warm fingers.

“The _iratze_ did a good job. I can sense where the muscle’s been recently healed, but there doesn’t seem to be any lingering damage. Does it hurt?”

Alec shook his head, rolling his shoulder to test the range of motion. “Feels a little weird, though.”

Magnus’s head snapped up. “Weird how?”

“I don’t know, kind of fragile? Like if I pushed it too hard I would break it.”

“That’s to be expected,” Cat said. “It’s new muscle, new skin. It needs a little time to settle in. Just take it easy.”

Alec shrugged his shirt back on, leaving it unbuttoned so he could continue enjoying Magnus’s interested gaze, and picked up his glass of wine to take a sip.

Cat took in his open shirt with a smirk, and Alec knew that she saw right through him. “Well, boys,” she drawled, “I think I’ll leave you now. Magnus, think about what we talked about.” She gave him a hug, patted Alec on his good shoulder, and then she was gone.

Alec raised an eyebrow, curiosity over Cat’s cryptic last statement fluttering in his stomach, but he didn’t push, making sure Magnus knew he could keep it private if he wanted.

Magnus studiously avoided Alec’s gaze, instead opening the box of cake and serving some onto a couple of plates. “Cat has some old books on the Nephilim tradition,” he said casually, “if you were interested.”

Alec blinked. “Nephilim?”

“The angelic warriors I was telling you about.”

Oh, _right._ The angelic warrior race that Alec was apparently a part of.

“That— that would be nice.” And it would be, he was burning with curiosity, but also…

Magnus finally met his eyes. “If it’s too much it can wait. Or not happen at all.”

“Yeah, maybe later?”

Magnus just nodded and tried to hand Alec a plate of cake. Alec held up a hand to stop him. He wasn’t a big desserts person himself, he had really just gotten it for Magnus.

“Come now, darling. I can’t possibly eat all of this myself.”

“Sure you can. I’ve seen you do it.”

Magnus sighed in defeat.

Alec waited until he’d taken a bite of cake before saying, “And when you finish that, you can have _this_ —” he gestured to himself “—for dessert.”

Magnus choked on his cake and had to lean over the plate, coughing and spluttering.

Alec grinned as Magnus looked up at him with a half-hearted glare.

“You realize that implies the cake is dinner,” was all he said.

“Isn’t it?” Alec countered.

Magnus shrugged, which Alec took as a yes. Magnus’s eating habits were… sporadic at best. Alec was determined to get him to eat more regular meals. If he had to pilfer more samples from caterers, so be it.

“What is this, anyway?” Magnus asked, stabbing another piece of cake with his fork and popping it into his mouth. “It’s delicious.”

“‘Lavender sponge cake with Earl Grey buttercream,’” Alec recited, having memorized every last detail of the thing’s construction over the course of the hour-long meeting.

Magnus blinked. “An unusual selection.”

“Honestly, as long as they don’t pick _vanilla buttercream,_ they can make whatever crazy combo they want.”

The corners of Magnus’s eyes crinkled. “Something wrong with vanilla?”

“It’s _boring!”_ Alec exclaimed, throwing his hands in the air. “And _everyone_ wants vanilla. Like, don’t you want your wedding to be about you and your partner? Why would you get the same cake as everyone else? The next client who asks for that same vanilla buttercream cake with fondant—which is disgusting, by the way! Fondant is _disgusting_ —can find themselves a new wedding planner.”

Magnus was openly laughing now, mouth hidden behind his hand. “This little cake has got you all worked up, hasn’t it?”

Magnus’s giggles were infectious, and Alec could feel himself starting to laugh, too, but he pushed onward: “Look, Magnus, the cake is the centerpiece of the whole catering effort. You can’t get all fucking _particular_ about like, whether your lobster is fresh caught from the shores of Maine and drizzled with homespun _butter_ and then just slap a random-ass cake in the middle of it all—”

He was cut off as Magnus pressed a buttercream-slathered finger to his lips, dipped it in to press against Alec’s tongue. “Have some tea, darling,” he said, eyes shining, “and maybe you’ll calm down.”

Oh, was that how it was?

Alec licked the frosting from his finger with an obscene swirl of his tongue, maintaining eye contact, then pulled his lips off Magnus’s finger with a _pop_ , enjoying the way Magnus’s eyes darkened.

“Nope, not feeling much calmer,” Alec said, throwing a cheeky grin his way, and then Magnus was latching onto the loose ends of his shirt to drag him closer, yanking Alec forward until their mouths connected, and Alec thought that the frosting might be too sweet for him in general, but he _really_ liked the taste of it on Magnus’s lips.

He really liked _this._ Joking around, feeding Magnus cake, feeling his body against him like it was normal. He wanted _every_ night to be like this: Magnus loose and happy and playful, free of the weight that always seemed to burden him.

But he couldn’t help teasing him a little. “Look at you. I can’t believe what I’ve unleashed.”

“Well, _Alexander,_ ” Magnus purred against his mouth. “You can’t expect me _not_ to act, when you’re standing there like _that_.” He gestured to Alec’s entire being. “That would be criminal.”

Alec pulled away, grinning, leaning his forehead against Magnus’s. “I mean, if it’s too much for you to handle, I can leave…?”

Magnus’s fingers wrapped around the back of his neck. “Don’t you dare.”

Alec leaned down, slowly, to press a kiss to Magnus’s neck, mouthing at the skin. “Could make you wait for it.”

“Absolutely not.” 

Alec stepped away, raising an eyebrow as he left Magnus bereft, a bruise already blooming on his throat. Magnus tried to follow him, and Alec stopped him with a hand on his chest, grinning.

_“Alexander.”_

“What do you say?”

Magnus’s mouth popped open in astonishment. “By God,” he said, “you’re a monster.”

“It starts with a ‘p,’ actually.”

 _“Unbelievable,”_ Magnus said, almost to himself. “Every good thing I said about you this morning, I take back them _all._ ”

Alec tilted his head in thought. “Even when you said you loved my—”

“Especially that!”

Alec leaned against the counter, fighting hard to tamp down his grin. “One little word, Magnus. That’s all.”

Magnus shook his head. “And to believe I trusted you with my heart. I feel so betrayed, Alec. So incredibly betrayed.”

Alec watched Magnus carefully, looking for any genuine frustration or confusion, hoping he had read him correctly this morning in bed. Which was how he caught the glint of challenge in Magnus’s eyes, quickly smothered by a false disaffectedness.

Oh, yes. It was on.

“Ah, well,” Magnus sighed, “I suppose I’ll just have to eat this myself.” He swiped up a clump of buttercream and popped it in his mouth, sucking down the length of his finger with an obscene moan.

Alec swallowed as heat pooled in his gut. _Fuck._ He was usually better at this.

Magnus tugged at the collar of his sweater. “Is it warm in here?” he asked the loft in general, and then he was pulling the sweater over his head in a totally unnecessary twisting motion that tugged his t-shirt from the waistband of his pants and left his hair in disarray.

He threw the sweater off somewhere and leaned against the counter, flexing his biceps.

That was it.

Alec strode over, grabbed Magnus by the arms and pushed him up against the counter.

Magnus smirked. “Changed your mind?”

Alec leaned in quickly, stopping a hair’s breadth away from Magnus’s mouth. Magnus leaned towards him instinctively, but Alec tangled his hand in his hair and held his head back.

“Say _please_ ,” he breathed against Magnus’s mouth.

The look Magnus gave him them was so _heated_ , so _filthy,_ and so uncharacteristic of the boyfriend he knew that Alec almost lost his grip. “You like it rough?” He hooked one leg around Alec’s and pulled him closer. “I can work with that.”

Something told Alec Magnus could do a lot more than _work with that._

“Where have _you_ been hiding?”

Magnus shrugged. “Just waiting for the right moment, darling.”

Alec pressed in close, reducing the air between them to a sliver. He felt hot all over, drawn in by the false-casual slouch of Magnus’s body, the warm planes of his skin. “Any other secrets?”

Magnus’s eyes glinted. “You’ll have to find out, won’t you?”

Alec leaned in, and Magnus’s eyes fell shut, clearly expecting Alec to kiss him—but instead Alec let go of his hair and, in a swift motion, lifted Magnus by the thighs and dropped him on the counter. Magnus’s breath left him in one sharp exhale as Alec crowded in between his legs, one hand braced high on Magnus’s thigh, the other gripped tight on his jaw, turning Magnus’s face down to look at him.

“I still,” Alec said, letting his breath ghost over Magnus’s lips, inching his hand up, up, up along his thigh, “want you to _beg_.”

Magnus’s breath hitched. Then he shifted forward, taking advantage of his newfound height to twist a hand in Alec’s hair, wrenching his head back and leaning in close, lips against his ear.

_“Make me.”_

Alec shivered. He could. Well, _maybe._ Magnus was clearly more experienced with this than he had been letting on, and would by no means be an easy win. Alec was greatly looking forward to taking him apart piece by piece, wringing every last plea and sound of pleasure from his stubborn body.

And yet.

This felt like a big step, a fundamental change in their relationship that they couldn’t come back from. And they were still so _new_ , especially when it came to making things physical.

He gently tilted Magnus’s face back until he could lock eyes with him, made sure he had Magnus’s full attention. “Are you sure?”

Magnus softened, dropping the rebellious act. “I’m comfortable with it if you are.” He raised a hand to cup Alec’s cheek, smile turning a smidge playful. “It’s not my first trip around the sun, you know.”

“No, I _know_. It’s just— any kind of sex at all is still really new, _for us_. I don’t want to, like—” Alec’s hand flexed involuntarily on Magnus’s thigh as he tried to elucidate the source of his hesitation “—push us too far, too soon.”

Magnus ran a thumb under his eye. “You won’t break us. Or _me._ I _have_ done this before. It’s—” he grimaced, rubbing at the back of his neck “—it’s been a while, but still. And—” the corner of his lips tilted up, his gaze taking on a glint that had something hot curling in Alec’s chest “—it’s not like I’m suggesting, for the _second_ time we have sex, that you tie me to the bed and have your way with me.”

Alec just stared at him, his chest tight at the image, words stolen.

“But if you wanted to push things in that direction,” Magnus continued as if he hadn't just suffocated Alec where he stood, “I would be far from opposed. However, if you don’t feel ready, then we should wait. And it’s perfectly okay.”

“No, I _am_ ready,” Alec said when he had regained his composure. Lord knew he had been fantasizing about it, without even knowing if it was something Magnus would be into—fantasizing about pressing him down into the bed, about drawing out every last drop of his pleasure—

And then, this morning, he’d latched onto Magnus’s wrist, and Magnus had keened against him, and he’d thought— _hm._ To have the thought confirmed before him now, so vividly, Magnus straining against Alec’s hold on his hair, that heat in his gaze, was heady, almost disorienting. Once again, it startled him, just how _well_ they fit together. 

“I am ready,” Alec repeated, “I just wanted to make sure _you_ were.”

Magnus must have sensed that Alec needed a straightforward, verbal response, for he dropped whatever quip was balancing on his lips and just said, “I am.” Then he sighed mournfully. “This is why it took us three months to have sex.”

Alec blinked. “Because we care about communication?”

“Because you’re so concerned with how I feel that you never think to prioritize how _you_ feel.”

The words stung a little, though it was belied by the soft, humorous expression on Magnus’s face. “I’m not going to _push_ you, Magnus. _Especially_ not with sex.”

“That’s not what I mean. What I mean is: you’re allowed to _ask_. Not just for sex, for—anything. And I might say no, but it’s not the end of the world, and it doesn’t mean you shouldn’t ask. Trust me to set my own boundaries. You don’t have to set them for me.”

He ran a hand through Alec’s hair, softening the edges of his words, and Alec sighed, recognizing the truth in them. “Alright. You’re right.”

Magnus kept playing with his hair. “You weren’t shy about it when we first met.” His lips tilted up at the memory. “I don’t know what changed.”

“I don’t know, I just— want to take care of you?” Alec grimaced. “And I know you don’t need it, but I just— I want to anyway.”

“And you still can,” Magnus said. “You can just take care of yourself, too.”

“Okay, well,” Alec countered, running his hands up and down Magnus’s thighs in a grounding motion, “if I’m going to work on that, then you need to promise me something, too.”

“And what’s that?”

“Stop hiding from me.”

Magnus’s hands stilled in Alec’s hair. His voice, when he spoke, was nervous. “Alexander—”

“Not about the magic!” Alec interjected as soon as he realized what he’d implied. “Christ, that’s not what I meant. Lord knows you have reasons for keeping that secret. I meant—things like _this_.” He gestured to how they were still partially tangled together. “How you— you _want_ things, and you never say. How it feels like there are parts of you that only seem to come up once I do something to bring them out, like you’re waiting for my approval before you reveal them. I want to _know you_ , Magnus.” He cradled Magnus’s face between his palms. Magnus was watching him, gaze searching, eyes wide and dark. God, he was so _beautiful_ , like a captured flame, bright lights and fathomless depths. _“All_ of you.”

Magnus swallowed. “You may not like what you find.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Alec said firmly. “I don’t have to like it. I just have to love it. And I do. Because I love you.”

Magnus stared at him for a long moment, uncomprehending, taking this in. Then he let out a long, shaky breath, hands clenching in the fabric of his pants. “No more hiding,” he murmured, and he closed his eyes.

When he opened them again, they were gold.

Alec started, grip tightening on Magnus’s jaw, the ethereal glimmer of Magnus’s eyes igniting something bright and tremulous in his chest. Magnus was watching him cautiously, like he was bracing himself for a blow, and Alec almost couldn’t breathe for how much tenderness swelled in his heart.

He didn’t _really_ know what he was looking at, what Magnus’s eyes meant other than that they must be related to his magic. But he couldn’t bear to have Magnus looking at him like that, like he thought this would change something between them.

Alec ran his thumb under Magnus’s eye, watched Magnus blink at the touch, softening a little. “Magnus,” he said, catching the note of wonder in his own voice, “they’re so beautiful. Are they because of your magic?”

Magnus nodded, tilting his head into Alec’s palm. “It’s called a Warlock mark. All Warlocks have them, though what the actual mark is varies pretty widely.”

“And you keep them hidden?”

“I can’t very well go walking around the streets like this, especially not in the twenty-first century, when Warlocks are basically a fairy tale.”

Magnus always spoke about time so strangely, like he didn’t belong to it. It made something uncomfortable twist in Alec's chest. But he pushed it aside for now.

“Well, you can with me. I mean, if you want.”

Magnus blinked at him, his strange and beautiful eyes shining. “I’ll work on it. I’ve gotten rather used to keeping them glamoured. But if you like them…” he smiled a little, hesitantly.

“I love them, but what’s really important is how _you_ feel about them. Hide them or don’t, it’s up to you, but don’t choose on my account.”

Magnus pushed at Alec’s chest with his fingertips. “So _wise_ ,” he teased.

“Yeah, well,” Alec said, grabbing a hold of his hand, “I’d hope seven years of therapy would have taught me _something_.” 

Magnus snorted. “Trust you to have high expectations for yourself even in _therapy_. You know that’s the one place where you’re allowed to drop all your personal standards at the door, don’t you?”

“My therapist keeps trying to drill that into my head, but it just doesn’t seem to stick.”

Magnus twisted his hand to tangle their fingers together, tugging Alec impossibly closer. _“Try-hard,”_ he teased.

 _“Your_ try-hard,” Alec corrected, letting himself be pulled in until their lips were nearly touching.

Magnus hummed. “Indeed.” And then they were kissing, Magnus leaning down from the counter to get an angle on Alec’s mouth that he didn’t normally get, an angle that Alec found he _really_ liked. Magnus looked down at him, golden eyes half-lidded, and a shiver ran down Alec’s spine. Then Magnus was reaching into the catering box to snag another glob of frosting and swipe it up Alec’s bare chest.

When Alec just looked at him quizzically, Magnus grinned, all mischief, and licked the remaining frosting from his fingertip.

“You _said_ I could have you for dessert.”

Cheeky _bastard._ Alec rolled his eyes, but he leaned in close to Magnus’s ear, breathing against the shell, “I was kind of looking forward to having _you_.”

Magnus’s fingers wrapped around the nape of his neck, tangling in his hair, his grip warm and tight. He hooked his legs around Alec’s waist. “That can be arranged.”

He bent forward to mouth along Alec’s jawline, still firmly entrenched on the counter.

“You’re not going to move, are you?”

“Nope,” Magnus said, “I want to see you use those muscles, Alexander. Surely they’re not just for show.” He prodded at one of Alec’s biceps with an approving smirk.

Alec shook his head in disbelief. To think he had once thought he had to go slow with this man. “You are unbelievable,” he told him.

“So I’ve been told.”

“Let’s see if we can knock you down a peg.” And with that he scooped him off the counter and into his arms.

Magnus laughed, warm and free, wrapping his fingers lightly around Alec’s throat to tilt his chin up. “You are _welcome_ to try, my darling.”

And, well. Alec was never one to back down from a challenge.

Magnus’s weight against his side as they basked in the afterglow was a welcome warmth, Magnus’s fingers tracing circles on his chest preventing Alec from drifting too far away on the after-currents of his orgasm.

Which is why it took him a moment to realize Magnus was shaking against him, fingers twitching against Alec’s skin.

Alec turned on his side to face him, momentarily concerned—a feeling that was dispelled immediately when he realized Magnus was _laughing_ , borderline hysterically, covering his face with his hand.

“What?” Alec demanded. When he didn’t get a response, he shook him. _“What?”_

“You don’t— you don’t like—” Magnus choked out— “You don’t like _vanilla_.”

Alec just stared at him. “Are you still on this thing with the cake?”

That just made Magnus laugh harder. He shoved at Alec’s chest. “You don’t like _vanilla_ , you _kinky_ _bastard_.”

Alec collapsed back against the bed, covering his eyes. “Jesus fuck.”

“I should’ve _known_. I should’ve _known_ that you’re an—”

“—Don’t say it—”

“—That you’re an _Earl Grey_ man.”

“Oh my God.”

“That’s going to be a thing now,” Magnus asserted, looking unacceptably pleased with himself. “I’m going to make it a thing.”

 _“Please_ don’t.”

Magnus walked his fingers up Alec’s chest until he could press them to his lips, and everything in Alec warmed to see him so gleeful, annoying though he was. “Alexander.” Magnus fixed him with a serious look, but it started slipping off his face before he even spoke. “Are you into _Earl Grey?”_

“I’ll show you _into Earl Grey_.” Alec snatched Magnus’s wrist and rolled on top of him, pinning him to the bed. 

Magnus smirked up at him. “Ooh, _kinky._ ”

“You’re literally _killing me_ right now.”

“Oh, but it’s a glorious way to die, isn’t it?”

Alec kissed him, long and lingering, feeling Magnus’s body shift under his, loose and unburdened. “Yeah.” He pulled away, enjoying the way Magnus chased his mouth, placing a finger against Magnus’s lips to hold him off. “Hey. You wanted me to ask for things, right?” Magnus nodded, and Alec continued. “Alright, here’s me asking for something: can I stay the night? And like, I know I’ve crashed on your couch before, but can I _stay the night?”_

Fondness lit up Magnus’s eyes. “Alexander. You’re _already_ in my bed. Of course you can stay.”

“Alright.” He pressed a quick peck to Magnus’s lips. “Good.”

“I’ll find you some pajamas.” Magnus stared off into the middle distance, brow furrowed. He snapped his fingers, and Alec was suddenly clad in sweatpants and a t-shirt that were just his size. “Aha!” Magnus exclaimed, a pleased grin stretching across his face. “I keep forgetting I can do that now.”

Alec looked down at the clothes on his body. “Neat trick.”

“Isn’t it?” Magnus snapped his fingers again, and then he was wearing his own pajamas.

“Is there a limit to the size of things you can move with your magic?” Alec asked.

“Theoretically, no,” Magnus said. “Though I’m a bit out of practice. What were you thinking? Museum heist? Dinner from Paris brought right to our balcony?”

“Was thinking about hiring you to move all the tables into the wedding venue this weekend.”

Magnus swatted his arm. _“Alexander!_ I’m not a personal delivery service!”

“I _said_ I would _pay_ you,” Alec protested, grinning.

“You can’t afford me. And don’t you have a bunch of burly men to do that for you, anyway?”

“They never do it _right_ ,” Alec complained. “The arrangement always gets messed up and then I just have to do it myself anyway.”

“So _that’s_ where these muscles come from,” Magnus mused.

“I’m _serious._ ”

Magnus patted his shoulder soothingly. “I know you are, darling. You’re so _detail-oriented_.” This last bit he said as if it was the filthiest thing he could think of.

Alec cocked his head. “You love it.”

“Hmm, I do.” He tugged at Alec’s collar, gaze drifting to his mouth. “Now, enough work talk. Kiss me.”

Alec raised an eyebrow.

Magnus pouted. “Please?”

Alec smiled down at him, and obliged.

Alec woke with a start the next morning, the sunlight flooding through the windows hot on his skin. It got into his very bones, the heat of that sun, making him jittery, anxious to move out of its rays before they burned.

He twisted his fingers together as he turned to look at Magnus beside him, who had his face smashed in his pillow, still dead asleep. Though they’d fallen asleep tangled together, they’d drifted apart in the night, but Magnus still had an arm slung over Alec’s belly.

Alec watched him for a moment, fondness tugging at his lips, until the jitters running under his skin forced him up. He carefully removed Magnus’s hand, hoping not to wake him, and slid out of bed, running a hand through his disheveled hair. There was nothing he wanted more than to wait in bed until Magnus woke up, but his body was yelling at him to _move._

He could make breakfast, right? He would just make breakfast, and then come back.

He stood in front of the coffeemaker, shifting back and forth on his feet, picking at his hands, shivers of nervous energy running up and down his body. Fuck. _Fuck._ He’d felt kind of on edge for most of the day yesterday, but he’d been hoping it would resolve itself overnight.

Apparently not. _Fuck._

He needed to _move_ , needed to _do something_. The warm confines of the loft suddenly felt like a cage, and Alec needed to get _out._

He abandoned the coffee in favor of scribbling a quick note for Magnus— _“I’m so so sorry, I forgot I have a client meeting at 9. I promise I’ll make it up to you. xx Alec”_ —grimacing at the lie as he placed it on his nightstand and left a gentle kiss in Magnus’s hair.

Magnus was going to _hate_ him.

But he barely had time to dwell on that, overwhelmed by his other racing thoughts as he gathered up the majority of his things from around the loft and fled.

The cold air outside was bracing, and Alec walked instead of taking the subway, hoping it would calm his nerves. He didn’t even know what he was nervous _about_. Business was good, he and Magnus were in a good place—

His shoulder was throbbing.

It was his own fault. He’d said he would take it easy, and instead he’d carried Magnus halfway across the loft and thrown him into bed.

He just needed to get home, and then he could ice it, and stop thinking about just _why_ his shoulder was hurt in the first place.

Fucking _demons._ Seriously, what the fuck? How did everyone not know about this?

Someone walking the other way bumped into him, and Alec jumped, brain immediately leaping to _demon._ Or— Warlock? Or _what?_ How was he supposed to _know?_

He was being irrational. He just needed to get _home._

Once home, he threw on workout clothes and went for a run, never mind that he’d just walked several miles. He needed to burn off this energy somehow.

His phone was buzzing in his pocket. Probably Magnus wondering where the hell he had gone. Feeling hurt and betrayed after he’d bared his soul and Alec had just— _fled the loft._ God, he felt like such an _asshole._

But he didn’t pick up. He finished his run, feeling no calmer, took a quick shower during which he almost scrubbed his own skin off, got dressed and then just… paced around his apartment, tugging at his hair.

He couldn’t get his thoughts to align. He needed to figure this _out_ , this thing about magic and warlocks and demons and angels and where he fit into all of it, and what it meant for his life with Magnus. Would their lives change? Were they in danger? Was there more he didn’t know?

He needed to _figure it out_ , to solve this puzzle, but he still didn’t know if he had all the pieces and he couldn’t get them to fit together anyway.

Alec had never done well with unsolvable problems.

He twisted his hands together again, pinching at the skin, trying to get some sense of stability from the edge of pain.

_Think. Focus._

His phone was buzzing again. And his fucking _shoulder_ was _throbbing_.

He wrapped a hand around it, pressing down—but far from abating the pain, this only sharpened it, shearing the muscle. He pressed down harder, almost instinctively, and a shiver ran all the way up his arm and down his spine, his thoughts sharpening into clarity for a split second.

Alec froze, then ripped his hand away from the wound, trembling, realizing what he was doing.

Fuck. _Fuck._ No no no no _no._ He was _not_ going back to this. He had worked too damn hard over too many years to break free of these patterns only to slide back now, when life was supposed to be good. _No._

He clenched his fist to still his shaking, and it was only then that he felt the tackiness of his palm. He looked down.

His hand was bleeding where he’d been digging at the skin. He hadn’t even— hadn’t even _realized_ he’d been pressing that hard.

Alec stared at it for a long moment, fear curling in his stomach.

Then he pulled out his phone and dialed Magnus’s number before he could second-guess himself.

“Hey… babe?” He tried to keep his voice steady. He was pretty sure he failed.

“Alexander?” Magnus’s voice came over the line. He sounded uncertain. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah, I—” Alec sucked in a shaky breath, rapidly losing his composure. God, why had he _left?_ He had clearly upset Magnus. “I need to— can I—”

He hated the way anxiety stole his ability to speak.

 _“I need to talk to you about something,”_ he managed all in a rush. “Can I come over?”

“I’ll come to you,” Magnus said, his tone brooking no argument. When Alec started to protest, he added, “You don’t sound very good, darling. I want you to stay where you are. Okay? Are you at home?”

Alec breathed out slowly, hoping to calm his racing heart. “Yeah.”

A second later, a vortex swirled to life in his living room, and Alec jumped as Magnus appeared before him, landing unsteadily as the thing closed behind him with a _whoosh._

“Sorry if I startled you,” Magnus said, straightening up.

“That’s a neat trick,” Alec said weakly.

Magnus frowned, then shook himself. “Ah. Of course. You were unconscious the last time I portalled us somewhere.”

And that was really the crux of it, wasn’t it?

“Magnus…” Alec started, uncertain what his reaction would be. Magnus caught the tone and looked at him more closely. “I think— I know I said I wasn’t afraid or overwhelmed by the magic—and I’m not afraid!—but, overwhelmed… maybe.”

Magnus softened, taking a step closer. “As soon as I saw the note, I knew something was wrong.”

“What? How?” 

“Well, first of all—” Magnus smiled a little “—it’s not like you to just leave like that without saying goodbye. Second, I can’t think of a single time I’ve seen you forget about a work appointment. Third—” he pulled Alec’s wallet out of his pocket and held it out to him “—you forgot your wallet.”

Alec took it and put it on the table behind him, startled a little by how right the observations were, how well Magnus knew him already.

“Don’t feel bad about being overwhelmed,” Magnus continued. “Your whole world’s been turned upside down.”

“Yeah.” Alec ran a hand through his hair, still feeling unsteady. “No, you’re right.”

Magnus’s expression turned hesitant. “If you want to— to take a break, or—”

 _“What? No._ God, Magnus, no.” Alec couldn’t stand to see that look on Magnus’s face, like he was just waiting to be hurt. “It just hit me kind of hard all of a sudden, the _hugeness_ of it all. But that doesn’t change how I feel about you.”

Magnus stared at him for a moment, then smiled, finally stepping into his space. He laid a gentle hand on Alec’s arm, and his touch quieted the shivers of energy running up and down Alec’s body. “Is there anything I can do help? Do you need me to give you time to process what you’ve learned before I share anything else about the Shadow World?”

“The opposite, actually? Do you think you can—not right this second, but at some point—just give me a rundown of how it all works? I’m driving myself in circles trying to figure it out on my own.” Having all the pieces laid out would help, Alec knew. At least then, he’d understand how this new world was shaped around him and be able to _plan_ for the future instead of just spinning blindly.

“Of course, darling.” Magnus’s hand was running up and down his arm now, he looked concerned, and Alec had to _tell him_ , even though it was hard.

He didn’t normally get nervous around Magnus, not really. Not even at the start, when they were still dancing around each and didn’t know if anything would grow between them. Even when he was still trying to draw Magnus in, that fluttering in his stomach had been mostly _excitement_ , not nerves.

But he was feeling it now, circling his heart. Actual _anxiety._ That old and familiar enemy.

“Magnus, listen,” Alec said, “I need to tell you something.” Magnus’s expression flickered, and Alec rushed to add, “It’s not bad! Well, it _is_ bad but it’s not about you, or us, it’s—something from my past, kind of. I—”

“Alec, breathe,” Magnus said, pressing a hand over Alec’s heart. His palm was warm and grounding. “You don’t _have_ to tell me anything.”

“I want to,” Alec said, and he did, no matter that the tightness in his chest was telling him otherwise. “You’ve been so open with me these past few days, and I just— I need you to know this. So, just, please—”

He needed Magnus to see what he was fighting. And it wasn’t like Magnus hadn’t seen him naked, he definitely _knew._ But still, Alec needed to _show him._

“—look.”

He pulled down the hem of his sweatpants and lightly touched his inner thigh. Magnus followed his gaze, his expression creasing when he saw what Alec was pointing at.

“Oh, darling,” Magnus breathed, crouching before him, gracing the scars on Alec’s skin with the lightest touch. Alec shivered under his fingers. “I saw these in bed, of course, but they looked old, so I didn’t want to pry.”

“They are old,” Alec said, “and I haven’t hurt myself like that in years. But I—” he needed to tell him. He _needed_ to _tell him_ — “but today I—” Magnus looked up sharply at that, rising to his feet so he could look Alec in the eye, and Alec pulled the waistband of his sweats back up so he could focus.

“—I almost did,” he finished weakly.

He gestured to his shoulder, slowly darkening with a bruise, showed Magnus the blood on his hands. Magnus’s eyes flickered over all of this, his gaze clouding with distress.

He took Alec’s hands in his own, soothing over the small wounds with a flicker of magic that tickled Alec’s skin. “Alexander—”

“I’m sorry,” Alec said.

“No. _No._ Thank you for telling me. For— for calling me.” Magnus’s thumbs stroked back and forth across his hands. “Let’s sit down?”

He lead Alec over to the couch, not letting go of his hands as they sat.

“I’m sorry for running away this morning,” Alec said. God, he had been dealing with this for years, why was it still so hard to talk about it? “It’s just, I have an anxiety disorder?” —he really didn’t know why he tilted his voice up to make it a question— “and I usually have it under control, but it still gets the better of me sometimes. I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to apologize,” Magnus said. “I’m just glad you’re alright. Are you alright?”

“Yeah.” And Alec was a bit startled to realize that it was actually _true._ The gentle touch of Magnus’s hands was diffusing the shivers of anxiety, leaving him more relaxed than he’d felt in hours. “I will be.”

“It was the magic that set this off?” Magnus asked, and Alec didn’t miss how the rhythmic movement of his fingers stuttered at the question.

“Not _your_ magic,” Alec told him truthfully. “More—the demon, and all of that.”

Magnus’s magic, while surprising to witness the first time, had instantly become nothing but a comfort to him, its soft touch on his skin a reminder of Magnus’s presence and vibrancy. It was like his soul, made available to Alec’s hands. He could never be frightened or distressed by it.

Alec continued, “I think I just— the thing is, it took me a long time to be able to create a life that I feel comfortable with. So to have all of that suddenly shift— it’s been a bit difficult. But I’ll figure it out.”

Magnus looked down at their intertwined hands. “And I did that to you.”

“No! No, Magnus, you—” Alec couldn’t help but chuckle, and Magnus looked up at the sound, brow furrowed “—you fit into my life so easily, it’s actually kind of scary. But even if you didn’t, I think I’d just chuck the rest of it out so I could keep you.”

Magnus looked distressed by this admission, but he didn’t say anything about it. Instead, he touched Alec’s shoulder and said, “I still want to talk about this, if you’re willing.”

Alec shifted, feeling nervous all of a sudden. But he was the one who had brought it up, so he said, “Okay.”

“I have experience with self-harm,” Magnus continued, “so you don’t have to shield me. You can tell me how you were really feeling. I promise I can handle it.”

Alec stared at him, his brain stuck on _I have experience with self-harm_ , trying to run through all of the time he’d spent with Magnus. Had he missed anything that he should have noticed?

Then he forced his mind back to the present. If there were anything serious going on, he’s almost certain he would have picked up on it. And if Magnus was merely talking about his past, then it was a discussion for another time.

“I didn’t even realize, at first, what I was doing,” Alec said, his hand coming up unconsciously to cover Magnus’s on his shoulder. “I just wanted all the noise in my head to stop, you know? But once I realized—” he couldn’t bring himself to meet Magnus’s gaze “—I was scared. That was… always how it started. The bad spells.” Alec blew out a breath, and Magnus took his free hand in his own. “All this chaos in my brain, and me just—willing to do anything for a moment of quiet.”

Magnus sighed sadly and leaned in to rest his forehead against Alec’s temple. His warm breath was comforting on Alec’s cheek. “I understand the feeling.”

And something in his tone told Alec that he really, really did.

“I’m glad you called me,” Magnus said, for the second time that morning.

“Me too.” Alec had intended to let them stay there, quietly leaning against each other, but he quickly found himself speaking again, a frustrated huff— “I just— I don’t want to go backwards, Magnus. I _can’t_ go backwards” —he hated how his voice slipped almost into a whine— “not now.”

“Progress isn’t linear,” Magnus said quietly, “but yes, I understand. I wish there was something I could do to help you. Something more than just being here.” He paused for a moment, thinking. “But I know it’s not that simple.”

“You do help me,” Alec said. “You’re right, nothing can cure it, but you— _you_ quiet me, Magnus.”

Magnus pulled away so he could look at Alec, blinked once, twice, a wondering expression dawning on his face.

Alec quirked a smile at him, reaching up to cup his cheek. “I always feel like I can think better, _breathe_ better, around you.”

Magnus wrapped a hand around Alec’s where it was pressed to his cheek, his eyes wide. “Alexander…”

“Can I feel your magic?”

Magnus looked a little startled, but he obligingly brought a hand up between them, letting a blue flame spark to life in his palm. Alec wrapped a hand over it, sighing at the feeling of the warm tickle of the magic on his skin. The flames seeped out from between their palms, dancing up Alec’s arm and onto his shoulder.

Magnus watched them go, a blush starting to tint his cheeks pink. Alec laughed. “You’re not telling it to do that, are you?”

Magnus shook his head. “My magic likes you.”

Alec grinned. “Oh, yeah?” He leaned until he was close enough to feel Magnus’s breath. “How does it feel about this?” And he pressed a kiss to Magnus’s lips, gentle, undemanding, just feeling him, thanking him for being here, for being.

Magnus hummed against his lips, pushing closer, his fingers flexing in Alec’s grip. Finally, he pulled away on a breath, saying, “It seems to like that.”

Alec opened his eyes to find that the magic was now shimmering over the both of them like a blanket. It looked so pretty dancing along Magnus’s skin, and Alec wondered, not for the first time, how he hadn’t instantly realized that something about Magnus was _literally_ magical. The soft glow of the magic looked so natural around him, breathtaking in the ease with which it followed his moods and desires.

Which now, apparently, included tugging Alec closer. Alec laughed as the magic prodded at him to move, swatting at it half-heartedly. “I’m _going_.”

He collapsed onto Magnus’s lap, looking up at him with a grin as Magnus lifted startled hands and slowly started running them through his hair. Alec hummed at the feeling, watching as strands of magic twined gently around his wrists and up his arms.

“I don’t think it’s going to let me go,” he whispered, as if he could prevent the magic from hearing him by being quiet enough.

Magnus smiled, and there was something newly settled about him, a confidence in the movement of his hands. And Alec thought, _I’d upend my entire life just to see you smile._

“No, Alexander,” Magnus said, “I should think not.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow this is extremely chaotic. please excuse me while I scream over how hard TWI!Malec are to write since we got like 32 seconds of screentime with them. like is this in character? who fucking knows
> 
> I hope you've enjoyed the further adventures of Alec "I'm winning at therapy" Lightwood and Magnus "I'm into Earl Grey" Bane as they take 26 steps in their relationship in one day like the incorrigible lovestruck idiots that they are
> 
> there will be more but probably not for another two months, at the rate this is going. sigh.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> haha look, it didn't even take me three months to update this time
> 
> also heads up, there's a bit of a time jump between last chapter and this one

“Dinner tonight?”

Magnus smiled as he let Alec out of the loft, leaning against the doorframe. “Only if you’re cooking for me again.”

“I know you know how to cook, Magnus. You’ve survived for years on your own without starving.”

“Only on takeout, darling. Don’t deprive me my homecooked meals.”

Alec leaned in to give him a kiss, smiling against Magnus’s lips. “I would never. Gotta get more food in that belly.”

He poked Magnus’s stomach, and Magnus let out an affronted gasp.

_“Alexander—”_

But Alec was already walking away, throwing a laugh over his shoulder. “See you later.”

Magnus waved after him, pressing two fingers to his smiling lips as he ducked back into the apartment.

Alec staying the night always left Magnus in a good mood for the rest of the day, and he hummed as he worked, finishing up potions and translations for a handful of clients. With his magic coming back stronger each day, he had just started taking on clients for magic-related tasks again, and it felt good to fall back into that familiar rhythm.

A knock on the door broke him out of his contented focus.

“You’re early,” Magnus said, not ungraciously, as he let the client into his apartment. “I wasn’t expecting you until three.”

The man—he’d given his name as ‘James’ when he’d requested Magnus’s help—nodded, stepping into the foyer. “I hope it’s not an inconvenience. I was in the area.”

“Not at all.” Magnus waved for James to follow him to his apothecary. “I have your potion ready.”

James stayed close behind him. His gaze left a prickle on the back of Magnus’s neck. “I have to say, I was surprised to hear you were accepting magical clients again.”

“Yes, well, times are changing,” Magnus evaded. He didn’t particularly want to reveal to a stranger how low on magic he’d been for the past century. “So, you’re familiar with my work, then?”

“Intimately.”

Magnus frowned. “Who did you say referred you?”

“A mutual friend.”

Magnus turned towards him. “Who exact—”

His words cut off in his throat as James’s eyes flashed black and his hand whipped up, too fast to see, reaching for Magnus’s neck.

Magnus barely got an arm up in time to block him, sending out an uncontrolled burst of magic that shattered vases and picture frames around the apartment even as it threw the demon back several feet.

The demon snarled as he scrambled back to his feet, immediately rushing for Magnus again—but Magnus was ready for him this time.

He hurled a fireball, catching the demon in the shoulder, which gave Magnus the time he needed to sprint across the apartment. He jumped up and over the couch, knocking it over, and careened into the far corner of the loft, where he rapidly raised heavier wards around the walls.

He had no idea how this demon had managed to get through the existing wards, but at least now no others would be joining him.

Magnus took a moment to catch his breath as he watched the demon claw at the burn on his shoulder. Magnus’s battle magic really wasn’t what it used to be, and those few small actions had already taken a lot out of him.

That could prove problematic.

“I expected more of a fight from you, Bane,” the demon said, straightening up.

“You get out of a relationship what you put in,” Magnus observed mildly, edging further away from the demon and looking for anything he could use as a makeshift weapon. He picked up an umbrella hanging by the door, testing its weight in his hand, feeling rather ridiculous as he did so.

The demon summoned a ball of swirling black smoke, approaching slowly. Magnus backed away, circling the loft, the umbrella held out before him.

The demon lunged, and Magnus dodged, and the magic struck the balcony doors, which shattered.

“You’re lucky I have homeowner’s insurance,” Magnus told him, “or you’d be _very_ sorry.”

The demon ignored this in favor of charging him. Magnus blocked him with a burst of magic, kicked him in the chest, and smashed the umbrella against his head—which really achieved little other than straining Magnus’s own wrist.

“Well, shit,” Magnus said, tossing aside the umbrella which was now bent to hell. He managed to catch the demon’s next blow with a hastily summoned magical shield—but he could already feel his strength waning under the continuous assault.

The shield vanished, and the demon grabbed him by the arm and flung him across the room. Magnus hit the wall with an _oomph_ , groaning as he slid down to the floor. 

“If you’re trying to kill me, then quit playing around and get on with it!” he snapped, which was possibly the _worst_ thing to say.

“I don’t want to kill you,” the demon said. “I’m just here to deliver a message.”

“The postal service is rather efficient in this century,” Magnus said, dragging himself to his feet. “You may want to consider that for next time. I also get email, text, messenger pigeon—whatever strikes your fancy, really.”

The demon stalked closer. “A personal message requires a personal delivery.”

“E-cards are popular nowadays,” Magnus offered as he slowly maneuvered himself behind the overturned couch. “They have little dancing cats and everything.”

“E-cards are so 2005,” the demon snarled.

“So you _do_ know modern technology!” Magnus said, and hurled a side table at him.

The table shattered against the demon’s face, but he didn’t even flinch, just took another methodical step closer. “The message is this—” another step. Magnus hid his hands behind his back, summoning his magic. It was like pulling from a drained well, but he pulled anyway, well-aware that if this didn’t work, he would leave himself dry.

The demon’s eyes bored into him. He kept advancing. Red flames were licking up his arms, but he didn’t direct them at Magnus. “He is coming for you.”

Magnus’s back hit the wall. He heard the brick crack as frissons of his magic escaped his control and frayed into it.

_He is coming for you._

It wasn’t possible. He had— he had sealed him _away,_ he had sealed them all away—

Magnus narrowed his eyes at the demon. “He can try,” he growled.

The demon laughed. “He said you would say that. That you would accept the challenge. But that secretly, inside—” he stalked closer “—you would be _terrified._ ”

He wasn’t wrong. Fortunately, one of the many skills Magnus prided himself on was the ability to thrive under existential terror.

He tilted his head at the demon, letting the fear rise up to fill him, fueling his magic. “Not of _you_ , though.”

And he brought his hands around in a _clap_ , releasing all the pent-up magic straight into the demon.

The demon exploded into smoldering ash, as did much of Magnus’s furniture. He _really_ needed to get this battle magic under control.

And submit an insurance claim. Though he wasn’t sure what cause to put down for the property damage. “Summons from hell?”

He took a step towards the drinks cart—if any day deserved a drink, this one did—and had to catch himself on the couch as exhaustion rose up to swamp him. His vision went spotty, and he had to spend several moments just focusing on staying conscious.

Right. Of course. Magic depletion.

Someone was pounding on the door. The sound was loud enough to break through the haze threatening to drag him under.

“Magnus Bane, you better open this door! I know you’re home, and I don’t know why the _hell_ your wards won’t let me in but if you don’t—”

Magnus staggered over to the door and yanked it open.

“Ragnor,” he said, blinking in surprise.

Ragnor had almost fallen into him as he’d opened the door; now he straightened up, adjusting his jacket. He looked disheveled, like he’d come in a rush, his hair all a mess. He was still breathing heavily.

Magnus took all this in. He couldn’t draw any conclusions from it—his brain felt like it was running at about a quarter of its usual speed, wading through glue.

“What’s got you in such a tizzy?” he finally managed to ask, and then his legs went out from under him.

He woke with a start, heart rocketing to rapid life. _Demon. There was a demon in his apartment._

A hand on his chest stopped him from sitting up. “Easy,” a voice said, “you’re okay.”

Magnus looked over at the owner of the voice. “Alec.”

Alec nodded, moving his hand to cup Magnus’s cheek. He looked sort of fragile at the edges, but he offered Magnus a smile anyway. “How are you feeling?”

Magnus pushed himself up a little in the bed, watching as Alec moved quickly to put another pillow behind his back. He felt a little shaky and tired, but it was just magic depletion. Just because he hadn’t experienced it in a while didn’t mean he’d forgotten the feeling. “I’m alright, darling.”

Alec took his hand, running his thumb back and forth over his knuckles. “Ragnor says you used up all your magic.”

“Just temporarily,” Magnus reassured him. _Wait._ Ragnor. “Is Ragnor still—”

“He’s here. He’s brewing something for you. I have no idea what.”

“A potion to help my magic replenish more quickly, no doubt,” Magnus said.

“‘A potion,’” Alec quoted, lips tilting up into a smile. “He almost didn’t let me into the loft.”

“Well, you can’t really blame him, dear,” Magnus said, patting his hand, “He’s been holed up in England and hasn’t gotten the chance to see your pretty face.”

A snort from the doorway interrupted them. They both looked up to find Ragnor standing there, mug in hand, watching them with a mix of fondness and wariness—the latter mainly directed at Alec—that had Magnus sighing in exasperation.

As Ragnor made his way to the side of the bed, Magnus pouted up at him. “What do you have to say to Alexander, Ragnor?”

“Absolutely nothing.” Ragnor handed Magnus the mug. “It’s not my fault you didn’t tell me you’d acquired a _Shadowhunter._ ”

“I wrote you!” Magnus said. “You were just too buried in your books to bother to reply.”

“You sent me an _email_ , knowing well that I don’t own a computer.”

“Actually, I sent you six emails,” Magnus corrected.

“Three of which were just full of cat gifs.”

“Aha! So you _do_ own a computer!”

“The library at Cambridge owns a computer,” Ragnor corrected. “And yes, alright, I read your emails. But your incoherent rambling didn’t seem urgent enough to justify a reply. And you _certainly_ didn’t tell me about this Shadowhunter.”

“He’s not a Shadowhunter,” Magnus said.

Ragnor looked critically at Alec, who was watching this exchange with a look of bemusement. “Don’t tell me you haven’t noticed.”

Magnus rolled his eyes. “No, I mean— technically, yes, he’s a Shadowhunter, but… there’s no _Clave_ anymore. There are no real Shadowhunters, Ragnor.”

“Be that as it may—”

“Can we discuss whether I’m part angel later?” Alec interrupted. His hands were still clasped around Magnus’s. “Magnus, what _happened?_ Why did you have to use all your magic?”

Magnus opened his mouth to explain—

“Don’t think you can get out of drinking that,” Ragnor said, pointing to the mug.

Magnus wrinkled his nose. “It tastes gross,” he complained.

“No, it doesn’t. I put cherry syrup in it.”

“Wow, Ragnor,” Magnus mused, looking up at his friend as he took a sip. The potion did, indeed, taste tolerable. “So thoughtful.”

“Yes, I know how much of a baby you can be about it.”

_“Hey—”_

“Magnus.” Alec’s gaze on him was intense, concerned and undeterred. “What happened?”

Magnus looked down at Alec’s hands around his. Unease was creeping back in, an awareness that, though he’d banished this demon, this was only the start.

He didn’t want there to be a _start_ of anything _._ But Magnus rarely got what he wanted.

Alec squeezed his hand, and Magnus said, “Edomai demon. Came to deliver a message.”

Ragnor looked at him sharply. But before he could speak—

“I thought all Edomai demons had been banished?” Alec said.

They both turned to look at him. Alec smiled sheepishly.

“I’ve been reading some of your books,” he told Magnus.

“And you say he’s not a Shadowhunter,” Ragnor said.

Magnus ignored him. “That’s correct,” he told Alec. “It should have been impossible for him to access this realm. I sealed all doorways to Edom a century ago.”

“ _You_ sealed them?” Alec said, eyebrows raising, but Magnus barely heard him, staring toward the living room with a frown.

“In fact, it should have been impossible for him to get into my apartment, even disguised as he was. I have specific protections in place against anyone associated with Edom.”

Alec was still looking at him strangely, but didn’t voice whatever was on his mind. Magnus made a mental note to ask him about it later.

“Wards have been weakening for years, along with the ley lines,” Ragnor said.

But Magnus shook his head. “The ley lines have been getting _stronger_ lately. And besides, these wards don’t require a lot of magic. They’re more of an advance warning system than anything. But I didn’t even get a ping off this demon.”

“He was disguised as a client?” Ragnor asked.

Magnus nodded. “Until he wasn’t.”

Alec’s grip on his hand tightened again. “What was the message?”

Magnus stared off into the distance, taking another sip of Ragnor’s potion, feeling the warmth of it spark at his magic. He really didn’t want to talk about this, especially not with Alec, not yet—there was too much context to explain, too much uncomfortable history.

“‘He is coming for you,’” he said anyway. A trill of fear ran through him at the words.

Alec stood up abruptly, the movement tugging at Magnus’s hand. Magnus didn’t know what he expected to do. Go stand in front of the door with a baseball bat?

 _“He?”_ he demanded, voice hitching up a notch. “Who’s _he?”_

Ragnor laid a hand on his arm. “Calm down, Shadowhunter.”

Alec shook him off. “No, Magnus, what’s going on? Are you in danger?”

“Not immediately, no,” Magnus said. “I don’t think so.”

“So you are, then.”

Ragnor looked between them, clearly trying to gauge exactly how much Alec knew. “Magnus needs to eat something,” he declared, grabbing Alec by the arm and dragging him towards the door, ignoring his stuttered protests. “Come and help me, I can’t find a single damn thing in this kitchen.”

“Alec reorganized it,” Magnus said, smiling blandly at his boyfriend. “Blame him.”

“Certainly not,” Ragnor said. “With the sheer number of times pans have fallen on my head thanks to _your_ 'organization system,' I will happily learn Alec’s method.”

“Excuse me,” Magnus exclaimed, miffed, “everything was color-coordinated!”

“That’s not how you organize a _kitchen_ , Magnus.”

“Do you two _ever_ stop bickering?” Alec asked, but he was smiling.

“I believe there was a truce declared in 2007,” Ragnor mused, “but it didn’t last very long.”

And with that, he dragged Alec the rest of the way out of the bedroom, leaving Magnus alone.

Magnus took a moment to just breathe and think as he finished the rest of Ragnor’s potion. He trusted Ragnor to occupy Alec and answer some questions without revealing any of Magnus’s more deeply held secrets. Magnus was immensely grateful for the momentary reprieve.

Because he had always expected Alec would find out about his magic. Had been able to mentally prepare for it, even if he hadn’t expected the moment to come in the form of a demon attack.

But this? He’d honestly hoped to never have to go into this.

Magnus sighed, then finally slid out of bed, walking over to the bathroom on shaky legs. He was still wearing the same clothes as earlier, and he stripped out of them quickly and stepped into the shower, wanting to get that sulfur smell of demonic banishment off of his skin.

He spent longer than usual in the shower, just letting the hot water run over him, thinking, unease swirling within him. A large part of him wanted to _run_. Just pick up everything—including Alec, if he was willing—and flee the country, go hide out somewhere, _anywhere,_ where he couldn’t be found.

But there was no telling what sort of destruction that would leave in his wake. And it would probably be futile anyway.

Instead, he just dried himself off and got dressed, making his way out to the kitchen, where Alec was stirring something on the stovetop that smelled savory and delicious.

“He can cook,” Ragnor remarked from where he was leaning against the counter, glass of scotch in hand.

“No thanks to you,” Alec said, turning around briefly to smile at Magnus and look him over, and then going back to his cooking.

Ragnor ignored him. “He can cook. He can keep your mess of a loft organized. He practically hurled me off the balcony when I wouldn’t let him at your bedside.” He took a considered sip of his scotch, swirling the glass in his hand. “This one’s a keeper.”

“Alexander has _many_ talents,” Magnus agreed, dropping his voice into a sultrier tone.

Ragnor shuddered. “Keep _that_ to yourself,” he said.

Magnus grinned wickedly, and was about to reply when Alec turned around and shoved a bowl and spoon into his hands. “Eat,” he commanded.

Magnus obediently started eating, finding, as soon as he took a bite, that he was ravenous. Magic depletion usually did that. The food was indeed delicious, spicy with a lot of vegetables.

Ragnor watched him with poorly veiled amusement. _Whipped_ , he mouthed.

Magnus stuck out his tongue at him.

“Where did you two meet again?” Alec asked, passing Ragnor a bowl and starting to eat from his own.

“University,” Magnus said.

“I scraped him off the floor of a bar,” Ragnor added.

Magnus shot him a look. _I thought we’d agreed on a_ simple _story?_

Ragnor shrugged. _I’m making it interesting._

“I was wilder in my youth,” Magnus conceded.

Alec didn’t look surprised. “You’re wild now,” he told Magnus, “you’re just better at hiding it.”

Magnus gaped at him. Ragnor looked delighted.

“Exactly how am I _wild?”_ Magnus demanded.

“Don’t think you want to ask that,” Ragnor muttered.

“I don’t think you want me to answer that,” Alec agreed, giving him a very pointed look.

“No, please, enlighten me.”

“Hmm, let me see,” Alec said, making a big show of thinking about it. “In the four months that we’ve been dating, one or both of us has been nearly murdered by a supernatural being _twice._ That’s just not normal.” But he was smiling a little as he said it, eyes dancing with mirth.

“That’s hardly _my_ fault,” Magnus protested.

“All of your friends have told me in frankly unnecessary detail how they’re going to disembowel me if I so much as leave one of your texts unread,” Alec continued.

“That’s just friendship, darling.”

“—Your cat is homicidal—”

“ _All_ cats are homicidal.”

“—You can drink an entire bottle of vodka and hardly even get tipsy from it—”

“Warlock tolerance.” 

“—The other day you told me out of nowhere that you _own a nightclub._ Which, I don’t even know how you have time for that. Not to mention the fact that you never go clubbing—”

“Pandemonium was an impulse purchase,” Magnus defended himself, “and it runs itself, for the most part.”

“—You live in a multimillion-dollar penthouse in Brooklyn and your day job is _tarot readings_.”

The humor was slipping out of Alec’s tone, and Magnus realized all of a sudden that perhaps Alec and Ragnor had been right. He really shouldn’t have asked.

“You never talk about your past,” Alec continued, more quietly now, “other than in the vaguest terms. Not about family, old friends, past lovers—nothing. Like, you just said that you and Ragnor met in college, but— last time I asked, you told me that you didn’t _go_ to college.”

“Alexander—” Magnus tried to interject, a trill of nervousness running up his spine.

“And finally,” Alec said, his gaze boring into Magnus’s, “there’s the fact that you’re apparently several hundred years old, even though you only look thirty.”

All the warmth vanished from the room at once. Magnus stared at Alec, breath stuttering. Ragnor pushed himself off the counter and came to stand by him, watching Alec warily.

“What?” Alec said, “you thought I wouldn’t figure it out?”

“Of course not,” Magnus said. He _had_ been planning to tell Alec… _eventually_. He had just—

He had thought he would lose him once he did.

“I was waiting for the right time to discuss it with you,” Magnus said.

“When’s the right time, Magnus?” Alec asked, sounding distressed. “When I’m seventy-five? When we get attacked by another demon? You want to die with your secrets, is that it?”

“Whoa. I didn’t almost _die_.”

“That’s _not_ the _point—_ ”

“Would you rather I dumped it all on you at once?” Magnus demanded, hands twitching, and he couldn’t _handle_ this right now— “Just like: ‘here’s my magic. Here’s the hell beings that want to kill me. Oh, and if that’s still not enough for you, I’m also _immortal_.'”

Alec flinched. “Would you have told me any of it if that demon hadn’t forced your hand?”

“Of course—”

“Are you sure?”

And the thing was—Magnus wasn’t sure. It would have been easy, wouldn’t it? to just… let time pass them by. To keep pretending to himself that he was allowed to have this, a normal life.

Alec, of course, noticed his hesitation. “I guess that answers that.”

Magnus had just opened his mouth to reply when Ragnor stepped between them. “Enough of this.” He turned a pointed glare on Alec. “If you want to discuss this _civilly_ , be my guest, but I’m not going to just stand by while you attack my friend.”

“I’m not _attacking_ ,” Alec protested.

“You’re attacking,” Ragnor said firmly. “Back off.”

Magnus appreciated the intervention. Normally, he’d have no problem defending himself, but he was still reeling from the demon attack and its implications, still somewhat unsteady on his feet.

And while he normally appreciated the intensity with which Alec approached everything he did, it was disconcerting to have that intensity turned _against_ him.

“Fine,” Alec said, hands raised, “I’ll just go, then. You two can reminisce about 1872, or whatever.”

And before Magnus could even process what was happening, Alec was striding towards the door.

“Alexander—” Magnus tried, but Alec ignored him.

And then he was gone. 

“Just when I thought I might like this one,” Ragnor said, as the door clicked shut.

Magnus stared in the direction of the door, chest tight, feeling like the floor had just fallen out from under him. “Don’t be too hard on him,” he said, anyway. “He usually handles everything—well, _me_ —with such grace. Honestly, I expected to have scared him off long before this.”

“He’s your partner. He’s supposed to handle you with grace.”

Magnus shrugged, turning to the stove and putting the kettle on in the hopes that making tea would be enough of a distraction to stop him from crying. “He wasn’t born in this world like we were.”

Ragnor was silent for a long moment. Then he asked, quietly, “Do you really think Asmodeus is in this realm?”

Never in his life did Magnus think he’d be grateful to his father for a distraction.

“In this realm currently? No,” Magnus said, turning back to Ragnor as the water heated up. “I’m sure he’d be at my door already if he was. But searching for a way out of Edom? Almost certainly.” He paused for a moment, reflecting. “If he’s already managing to squeeze minions through my protections, he must be getting close.”

Ragnor measured some tea leaves into a strainer. “That’s… troubling.”

“Ragnor,” Magnus said quietly, staring off into space. “I don’t think I’m powerful enough to banish him this time. Even with my magic coming back, it’s been a century of ley line depletion, and—”

“Hey,” Ragnor clamped a hand around his arm, which Magnus belatedly realized was shaking slightly. “So we’ll just have to stop him from getting to this plane in the first place. Alright?”

Magnus nodded wordlessly, mind still racing.

Ragnor handed him a cup of tea.

Magnus stared down at it. “Did you magic this?”

Ragnor shrugged. “Got tired of waiting for the water to boil.”

“Weren’t you always the one admonishing me for trivial uses of magic?”

“Comforting a friend isn’t trivial,” Ragnor said. “Are you feeling better?”

Magnus laughed humorlessly. “In what way?”

“Physically, to start.”

“Yes, your potion has worked wonders as always, thank you,” Magnus said. “Especially since you fixed the taste.”

“Well, Catarina told me children’s medicine often has a strong sweet flavor so they’ll actually swallow it,” Ragnor smirked. “So I figured I’d try that.”

Magnus swatted his arm.

“By the way—” Ragnor sipped at his tea “—you need to adjust your wards.”

Magnus grimaced. “Yes, I’ll have to figure out what hole that demon managed to slip through and patch it.”

“Not just that.” Ragnor’s voice was subdued now, his gaze angled away from Magnus. “When I got here, you were— well, the fight was still going on. I could hear you inside. But— I couldn’t get in to help. Your wards wouldn’t let me through the door.”

Magnus stared at him. “I didn’t hear you.”

“Well, no, you were busy destroying all your furniture.”

“My wards are programmed to let you in.” Magnus frowned. “Although I did throw up heavier wards during the fight, to prevent more demons from getting in—perhaps I overdid it.” He admitted more quietly, “I’m still not used to having this level of power again.”

Ragnor nodded in understanding. “And then with the ley line surges…”

“Is that why you’re stateside?”

“Yes. We’ve been seeing power increases all across Europe, and I wanted to see if it was happening in the Americas, too. And to pick your and Cat’s brains on the cause.”

Magnus sighed. “And I suppose we have to deal with it.”

“Depending on the cause, I suppose so,” Ragnor said. “But that’s a project for tomorrow. You need to get more sleep.”

Magnus groaned. He felt absolutely exhausted, but he knew sleep would be far away tonight. “You’re staying over, then?”

“If it’s alright.”

Magnus waved a vague hand. “My guest room’s always open to you.” 

“In that case, I’m going to ward up the loft and turn in. It’s three a.m. in England.” Ragnor started to walk away, but stopped, looking critically at Magnus. “Are you going to be okay?”

“I’m going to lie facedown in bed and cry myself to sleep,” Magnus deadpanned.

_“Magnus.”_

“I’ll be fine. Go get some rest.”

Ragnor continued to stare at him. “Magnus—”

“I’m fine,” Magnus said in a softer tone. “Go on. _Get_.”

Ragnor sighed and finally left the kitchen.

Magnus found some cake in the fridge—something Alec had picked up for him, he thought morosely—and wandered back into the living room. He tipped the couch back up and sat down, stretching his legs out along the cushions, picking at the cake.

He felt unsteady, sitting here alone amidst the destruction of his home, the hazy sky outside throwing everything into shadow. He had thought, naively, that for once he could relax, just let himself be content with what he’d built—but, as usual, it had all come crashing out from under him at the slightest provocation.

He sighed, sinking further into the couch, and dug into the cake.

He had almost finished it—the frosting now tasting more greasy than sweet—when the front door swung open.

“Magnus?”

Magnus started as Alec stepped into the loft, his form unmistakable silhouetted as it was by the light of the hallway.

“You’re here,” Magnus said, dumbfounded.

“Yeah. Why are you sitting in the dark?”

Magnus shrugged. “Moping.”

Alec came over to the couch and sat down precariously on the edge, taking the empty cake box from Magnus’s hands and placing it on the coffee table. Then he reached out and took Magnus’s hands in his own, slowly, like he thought Magnus might not let him.

Magnus considered not letting him.

“I’m sorry,” Alec said, looking down at their hands, and then, with great intention, up and at Magnus, “for getting after you like that earlier. You didn’t deserve it. You _never_ deserve it, but especially not after a hard day.”

Magnus pushed away the impulse to tell him that it was fine. If it was fine, he wouldn’t be crumpled up in the dark, binge-eating frosting.

“Where did you go?” he asked instead.

“Just took a walk so I could clear my head. I felt _awful_ as soon as I left, but I knew I needed to get my own head on straight before I tried to talk to you again.”

“You always meant to come back,” Magnus said to himself.

“Yeah.” Alec scanned him, concerned. “What, did you think I wasn’t going to?”

It flashed through Magnus’s body like a phantom, the surge of pain and loss he had felt when the door had swung shut behind Alec. The inevitability of it. “It had crossed my mind.”

Alec looked stricken. “I’m always going to come back,” he said firmly.

Magnus hummed as Alec ran his thumb back and forth over his knuckles. And then, because he could never resist the instinct to self-sabotage, he said, “You had a point, though. About my age.”

“Yeah, it wasn’t really about that, though.”

Magnus blinked. “It wasn’t?”

“I mean, we should talk about that at some point”—Alec’s gaze was intense in the soft darkness of the room—“but really, I think I was just stressed—because you had been hurt. And because I couldn’t prevent it. I mean, even if I had been here, there was probably nothing I could have done. And then I took all that out on you, which is literally the exact opposite of what I wanted to do, so I’m sorry.”

“You came back,” Magnus said, which was not at all related to what Alec had said, but he was still stuck on this—because up until moments ago, he had been reasonably certain he wouldn’t see Alec again. Not as his boyfriend, at any rate. People didn’t just _come back_ to Magnus.

“I came back,” Alec repeated, “so I could do what I really wanted to do earlier. What I should have done.”

“Which is _what?”_ Magnus asked. Hope was beginning to bloom within him, but he still felt a bit wary.

Alec slowly tugged him forward and into his chest, wrapping his arms around Magnus’s back and holding him tight. Magnus froze for a moment, then gradually let himself relax into the hug, melting into Alec’s arms.

“I still kind of have no idea what the hell is going on,” Alec admitted, tucking his face into Magnus’s shoulder, “but I wanted to let you know that it’s going to be okay.”

Magnus swallowed, clutching at Alec’s shirt. It wouldn’t be okay, he knew, but he appreciated the sentiment anyway. And he really appreciated the weight and warmth of Alec’s body, bringing him back into himself.

“Thank you, Alexander,” he said.

“I’m sorry, Magnus. I love you.”

“I know, darling. You’re forgiven.” 

Alec held onto him for longer than Magnus would have expected, pressing Magnus’s body into his own. Then he pulled away with a gasp, digging in his pocket.

“Oh! I forgot! I got you something.”

Magnus stared at him. “You got me something?”

“Yeah. Consider it an apology gift if you want, but really I just saw it while I was wandering aimlessly and thought of you.”

He took Magnus’s hand and placed a small bundle of tissue paper in his palm. Magnus unwrapped it with careful fingers and lifted out the small embroidered charm that was inside, turning it in the meager light of the foyer.

“It’s for protection. To ward off any more demons,” Alec told him.

Magnus continued staring at the charm. “You do realize these don’t actually work that way, right?”

“Yeah, I’m not an idiot. But at least now, there’ll be something here with you when I’m not. It’s got to be better than nothing, right?”

Magnus clutched the charm in his hand. “Right.”

He still couldn’t believe that Alec had just— had just _gotten_ this for him. Just like that.

“Thank you, Alexander,” he said faintly.

Alec had taken his free hand again and was playing with his fingers idly. “You wanna go to bed? It’s really late.”

“You’re staying.”

“You really think I’d just leave you alone when there’s demons running around?”

Magnus’s lips twitched. “Are you going to stand outside my bedroom door like a bodyguard?”

“Whatever it takes,” Alec said. He looked serious about it, too. “I don’t have years of martial arts training for nothing.”

“Very well, then, bodyguard,” Magnus said, finally allowing himself to relax into a real smile. “Come along. But only if you’re confident enough in your skills that you can defend me from _within_ my bed.”

Alec grinned, letting Magnus tug him to his feet and towards the bedroom. “Whatever makes you happy.”

But as they passed the kitchen, Alec suddenly slipped out of Magnus’s grip and darted over, rummaging in a drawer. He returned with a rather large serrated knife.

Magnus stared at it. “We haven’t discussed painplay, darling.”

“No, Magnus, what the fuck!? It’s for self-defense!”

It took a moment, but Magnus watched as Alec finally recognized the humor in his expression.

“Oh, you’re joking. Thank God.”

Magnus took his hand again and resumed dragging him towards the bedroom. “Did you really think I wanted you to bring a _steak knife_ into a scene?”

“Well, _I_ don’t know.”

“That’s not going to do anything against a demon, by the way. When that one attacked me earlier, I threw a table at his head and he didn’t even flinch.”

Alec let out a startled laugh at the image. “You threw a table at his head?”

As they reached the bedroom, Magnus nodded. He let go of Alec’s hand so he could change into pajamas. “But like I said, it didn’t do anything. Demons are only really susceptible to magical attack.”

“Hmm.” Alec put the knife down on the nightstand anyway and started to change into his own sleep clothes. “I’ll have to learn something magical, then.”

Now Magnus looked up at him. “Alec, you don’t _have_ to do anything. This mess doesn’t involve you, I don’t want you getting dragged into it.”

“Of course it involves me. It involves _you,_ doesn’t it?”

“Well, yes, but—”

“Then it involves me. Tomorrow, I’ll get Ragnor to explain everything so I can figure out how to help.” He slid into bed, and Magnus followed him.

“Why Ragnor?”

“Because you’ve been through enough and I don’t want you to have to do it.”

Magnus just looked at him, struck dumb by the courtesy. Alec slid down in bed, pulling the covers up, and Magnus followed him, resting his head on his pillow.

“Alexander,” he said after a long, quiet moment. “You told me once that it took you a long time to be comfortable with your life. My magic already almost ruined that once. And what we’re getting into now is likely to be far worse than that.” He couldn’t meet Alec’s eyes as he said it, just stared off somewhere over his shoulder. “I couldn’t stand it if I ruined you.”

 _“Magnus.”_ Alec reached out across the sheets to cradle Magnus’s face in his palm. “I made a choice and I stand by it. Fuck my normal life, I want _you_ , and that includes whatever comes along with you.”

Magnus wrapped his hand around Alec’s with a sigh. “It just feels so uneven, asking you to deal with all of my messy past coming back to get me.”

“You hold onto that thought when you meet my family.”

Magnus frowned. “I’ve met Isabelle. She’s lovely.”

“Yeah, but Izzy’s just the start. But never mind, that’s for later. Do you believe now that I’m ready to battle hell, or whatever it is we’re doing?”

Alec’s grin was infectious, and Magnus reached up to pinch his cheek. _“Cheeky_. And you really don’t know the half of it. But that is, as you say, for later.”

As if on cue, Alec yawned. “Yeah, can we please go to sleep now? I’m exhausted, and you must be doubly so.”

Magnus _was_ exhausted, physically and emotionally. His magic was partially replenished, aided by Ragnor’s potion, but he could still feel the drag of the depletion on his bones.

“Come on—” Alec said, tugging at his arm. Magnus fell forward into his arms, letting himself cling to the heat of Alec’s body.

Alec who was _still here_ , despite everything.

“—get some sleep.” He ran a hand through Magnus’s hair.

“Yes, dear,” Magnus mumbled into his chest. And then, despite the worries still circling his mind, he did.

_Fire. There was fire everywhere, ash fluttering down from the sky, the charred remnants of buildings and bodies all around him._

_“Magnus!” Ragnor yelled from somewhere far off. “Seal the rift!”_

_He couldn’t, he couldn’t, he couldn’t—_

_“Yes, you can! You’re the only one who can!”_

_Where was Ragnor? Where was Cat? Magnus had no idea where_ he _even was, other than that he was surrounded by fire—_

_He was going to fail. He was going to fail like he always did, and they were all going to die._

_“Ragnor,” he whimpered, but there was no response._

_“There you are,” a smoky voice said, and Magnus froze. A hand clamped down on his shoulder and spun him around._

_Asmodeus grinned down at him, golden eyes glinting._

_“There’s still time to save your precious city,” he crooned. “It’s a simple choice, Magnus.”_

_“Simple,” another voice echoed, and Magnus whirled around, heart plummeting through his stomach._

_Camille trailed a long nail along his collarbone and up his neck to his chin, baring her teeth in a sharp grin._

_“Don’t you want to join us, my love?”_

_“You’re with him?” Magnus whispered._

_Camille snorted. “I’m always on the winning side, Magnus.”_

_“Seal it!” Cat yelled. Magnus turned to find her very close, blood streaming down her face from a gash on her forehead. “You have to seal the rift!”_

_“But, Camille—”_

_“Fuck that bitch! Take my hand, take what you need, and seal it.”_

_Magnus grabbed her hand and pulled, feeling her power pool into him. Then he stumbled away from her, gathering all of the magic swirling within him as he came to stand before the rift._

_It was still growing by the second, a fiery maw in the earth. Magnus sucked in a shaky breath, spreading his hands over it, and—_

“Magnus. Magnus. Hey.”

Magnus startled awake, wrenching his arm from Alec’s grip. His heart was fluttering, his chest heaving, and he could feel his magic tingling along his skin. Where— where _was_ he? 

“Magnus. You okay?”

Dawn was just slipping in through the window, illuminating the bedroom with watery light. Magnus finally took in Alec, who was sitting up beside him, brow furrowed in concern.

“Yes,” he finally managed to say, swallowing hard. “Yes, I’m okay.”

“You don’t look okay. Were you having a nightmare?”

Magnus nodded, and Alec slowly reached out to touch his arm.

“Is this okay?”

Magnus nodded again, and Alec tugged him into his arms. Magnus tucked his head under Alec’s chin, letting the warmth and solidness of his body banish the tremors that had overtaken him.

“It’s okay,” Alec said, rubbing a hand up and down his back. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Magnus shook his head. “Maybe another day.”

“Okay. Let’s just stay here, then, yeah?”

Magnus nodded, and Alec brought them back down to the bed, holding Magnus to his chest. His hand found its way to Magnus’s hair and started running through the strands. Magnus sank into the touch. 

“I _will_ tell you everything,” he said, “I promise.”

Alec sighed. “You don’t _have_ to. I’m not going to push you again.”

“You deserve to know it. And I’d hate for you to get hurt because you didn’t.”

“Alright, I won’t argue with you ‘cuz I’m honestly confused as all hell. But—tomorrow.”

“Yes.” Magnus tucked himself closer to Alec’s chest.

“Try to get some more sleep.”

Magnus tried, but he slept fitfully, Asmodeus’s low chuckle echoing in his dreams.

A knock on the bedroom door woke him.

“Magnus,” Ragnor called, “I’m sorry to wake you up, but it’s rather urgent. It’s also, well. _Noon_.”

Magnus groaned, pushing his face into Alec’s neck. He still felt _so_ tired.

“Magnus, I’m serious. It’s urgent.”

“You should probably answer him, or he’s going to break the door down,” Alec mumbled.

“Let him, the loft’s destroyed anyway,” Magnus said.

“I’m coming in, and if I have to see you naked you owe me new eyes!”

Magnus yelled, “You should feel blessed to look upon me!” to which Alec whined.

“Magnus, too _loud_.”

Magnus patted his chest. “Apologies, dear.” To Ragnor he added, “I’m decent! You can come in.”

Ragnor did, coming to stand by the bed. Even with his face still smashed against his boyfriend’s throat, Magnus could tell Ragnor was staring at Alec.

“I should turn your hair lime green,” he said mildly.

“Go ahead,” Alec said without opening his eyes, “I’d deserve it.”

“Please don’t,” Magnus said, finally pushing himself upright, “he’d look atrocious like that. It would really just be a punishment for _me._ ”

“Magnus,” Ragnor said, his tone serious now, “Cat was attacked.”

 _“What!?”_ Magnus said, fully alert now. Alec sat up beside him. “When? Is she—”

“She’s fine. She’s more than capable of handling one demon.”

 _“Another_ demon?” Alec asked. “There seem to be an awful lot around for something that’s supposed to be extinct.”

“Indeed,” Ragnor remarked drily as Magnus shoved himself to his feet, beelining for the door. Ragnor caught him by the arm. “Whoa. Relax. She’s fine. In fact, she’s coming over now so we can have a little war council.”

“Just like the old days,” Magnus said quietly.

“Although I don’t know where any of us are going to sit,” Ragnor continued, looking out towards the ruined living room.

Magnus barely heard this. “You should leave,” he said, feeling very distant. “You and Cat. Get out of the city and let me handle this.”

Ragnor just looked at him tiredly. “What on earth are you blabbering about now?”

“Don’t you see how it’s connected?” Magnus insisted. And he felt sort of ridiculous, standing there and yelling in his pajamas, but he forged on. “He’s _coming_. My _father’s_ coming!”

He heard Alec startle on the bed behind him. “Your _father—?”_

Ragnor tried to interject, “Magnus—”

“He’s coming for _me!”_ Magnus shouted. “He wants me, but he won’t hesitate to trample over anyone who gets in his way. So leave. I’m not letting you do this for me again.”

His chest was heaving. Ragnor stared at him for a long moment. “No.”

 _“Leave!”_ Magnus begged, because he knew, just _knew_ , that they wouldn’t be so lucky as to all survive this time around.

 _“No.”_ There was a hint of anger in Ragnor’s voice now. “You’re going to _handle it?”_ he demanded. “How exactly are you going to handle it on your own, Magnus? Seriously, tell me.”

“I’ll figure it out,” Magnus insisted.

“You’ll die,” Ragnor said bluntly. “Or worse. So no, I’m not just going to fuck off back to Cambridge and leave you to it.”

Magnus stared at him, chest heaving. Ragnor glared back, crossing his arms.

“Now, can we get to work, or are you going to keep fighting me on this? Because Cat will be here in twenty minutes and I’m desperate for coffee.”

Alec had gotten out of bed at this point and reached Magnus’s side. “Don’t you drink tea?” he asked mildly.

Ragnor leveled him with a flesh-melting glare. “Don’t test your luck. You’ve very little of it left.”

Alec raised innocent hands—one of which, Magnus was somewhat amused to see, was holding the knife from last night.

Ragnor took this in, then glanced between the two of them. He looked incredibly tired. “Do I even want to know why in the goddamn hell you have a _steak knife_ in your bedroom?”

“It’s for self-defense,” Magnus and Alec said at once.

Ragnor rubbed his eyes. Then, without another word, he turned for the door.

“I expect you out here in fifteen minutes or less, Magnus!” he yelled over his shoulder as he left. “You too, Shadowhunter, if you’ve decided you’re staying. We could always use some muscle.”

“Make some pancakes, I’m starving!” Magnus yelled back.

Ragnor, as expected, didn’t justify this with a response.

“I’ll make you some pancakes,” Alec said.

Magnus patted his arm. “I was just harassing him, darling.”

“I know, but still. You should eat something.”

Magnus poked at Alec’s abs. “Isn’t Mr. 26-forms-of-martial-arts going to tell me to drink a kale smoothie or something instead?”

Alec looked at him seriously. “If you want pancakes, that’s what you’ll get.”

“Mmm. Perhaps… French toast?”

“Done.”

Magnus beamed up at him. “I love my personal chef.”

“I know you do. Now do you want to get ready, or are we going to just stand here? I don’t want to get yelled at again.”

“Yes, yes, fine. But you mustn’t let Ragnor intimidate you. He’s really just a softie.” 

“I’ve seen _zero_ evidence of that, but okay.”

A half hour later, Alec was placing a plate of picture-perfect French toast in front of Magnus, who pouted up at him until he also leaned down and gave him a kiss. “Thank you, darling.”

Ragnor sighed into his coffee. “Are you _always_ this disgustingly sappy, or is it just to torment me?”

“They’re always like that,” Cat offered from where she was sitting cross-legged on the couch. “You learn to tune it out.”

Alec tried to offer a plate to Ragnor, but Ragnor just stared at him until he retracted it.

 _“I’ll_ take some French toast!” Cat called, and Alec passed it to her.

As she took a satisfied bite, Ragnor looked around at all of them. “Are we happy now? Can we please get to work?”

“Relax,” Cat said around a mouthful of food. “We’ve killed two demons in the past twenty-four hours. Let us enjoy our breakfast.”

“No, Ragnor’s right,” Magnus said, feeling subdued now as Alec settled against his side, the true weight of the situation crashing down on him again. And he absolutely _hated_ this, having to fight, having to _plan_ to fight, but he knew they didn’t have a choice.

“Let’s get to work.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> me pivoting wildly between humor and angst in this chapter: parkour! 
> 
> so I didn’t really go into what Ragnor’s like in this universe but consider this… since Magnus dresses more simply in TWI… what if in this universe Ragnor is the one who wears cool jackets and glitter and makeup and shit. Just please consider punk rock Cambridge professor Ragnor Fell and his soft sweater boy best friend Magnus Bane. Consider it. Thanks
> 
> also, as you can see, this fic is like a Whole Thing now. hope you're along for the ride 😉


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warnings for truly excessive amounts of banter and sappiness

“Dude, where _are_ you? Why are you off in la la land today?”

Alec blinked back to awareness to find Izzy leaning across the table, eyes narrowed in annoyance. She huffed when he just stared at her blankly.

“I know daydreaming about Magnus’s ass occupies ninety-five percent of your waking thoughts, and normally I don’t mind, but do you think you can put it aside for one day so we can talk about _us?”_

“I wasn’t—” Alec started to protest. But she was right, wasn’t she? He _had_ been thinking about Magnus. Not about his _ass_ , specifically—not _this_ time, anyway—but about more serious things: his past, his immortality, the danger he was in.

All Alec could think about lately was the background Catarina and Ragnor had filled him in on: the fiery battle of more than a century ago when Magnus had nearly gotten himself killed trying to close a portal to hell and banish Asmodeus, a literal _fallen angel_ bent on destroying the world. How, after the gateway had been closed, magic had started to seep out of the world until it was left in the state it was in today: free from demons, but also having lost much of its more powerful magic. How that had made the warlocks—of whom he now understood there were several thousand scattered across the globe—the last relics of a dying magical age, had left them to watch their brethren die out, and the magic that sustained them slowly fade into nonexistence.

They related this story with stony matter-of-factness, but Alec thought it was all terribly sad. He hadn’t yet gotten the chance to really probe Magnus’s feelings on the matter, but the distant look in Magnus’s eyes as he'd listened to Cat and Ragnor made Alec think he wasn’t going to like what he heard when he did.

It had all been swirling around in Alec’s head since the meeting—this unknown history, Magnus’s part in it and the clear effects it had left on him. It was distracting him from work, from lunch with Izzy, even from quieter moments alone with Magnus.

Alec just wanted to _help_ , but he still didn’t quite know _how._

“Alec!” Izzy yelled, causing several restaurant patrons to turn towards them in irritation, “you’re doing it again!”

“Sorry, I’m _sorry_ ,” Alec said, and he truly was. Izzy didn’t deserve to get dragged into the mess that was his brain, that was his _life_ right now. “I’m just kind of distracted, I guess.”

“Distracted by _what?_ Alec, _what_ is going on? You’ve been all over the place lately.” Izzy leaned in closer and dropped her voice conspiratorially. “Do you need help? Are you in a cult?”

“No, I’m not in a _cult_.” Alec eyed her. _Really?_ But Izzy stared him down, unmoved. “Magnus and I are just working on, um. A project.”

“‘You and Magnus are working on a _project?’_ You make it sound like you’re trying to get pregnant.”

“Jesus Christ, Iz. We’re not even married yet.”

_“‘Yet’?”_

Oh, no. That gleam in her eye was _not_ good.

“Is _this_ what’s got you all up in your head? Are we planning a _wedding!?”_

“Iz—”

“Well, obviously _you’d_ plan it, that’s your _thing_ , but you _have_ to let me be involved.” She clapped her hands. “Oh my God, I’m so excited—!”

“Izzy!” Alec ran a hand over his face, suddenly exhausted. “We’re not getting married. We’re just—” he debated how much he was allowed to say “—Magnus is going through kind of a tough time right now, and I’m just doing my best to help him through it. We’re trying to clean up something from his past.”

Izzy’s expression turned wary. “‘ _We’re_ trying to clean up something from his past’?” she parroted. “Alec, what are you getting yourself into?”

“Nothing!” Alec tried to defend himself. “Or, I don’t know. Something. I can’t really talk about it. But I just— I have to help him, Iz. He’s been through so much.”

“I know.” Izzy laid a hand on his arm. “I know that you love him and you want to protect him. But just take care of yourself, okay?”

“Okay, I’ll try.” It was the best Alec could promise.

“Is there anything I can do to help?”

“No!” Alec said immediately, voice sharp. Then he continued in a softer tone, “This isn’t your problem. Magnus’s friends are helping out. I think we’ve got it under control.”

He _really_ didn’t want her involved in this, and not just because he couldn’t reveal magic to her. It was one thing to put himself in danger, but he’d be damned if he let Izzy be on the front lines with him.

Alec expected Izzy to push, but she just said, “Alright, well, let me know if you think of something.”

Alec took a long sip of his coffee, then said, “Come on, enough of this. You wanted to talk about your research.”

Izzy was still eyeing him warily, but she let him take the out. “Well, you know we’ve been stalled on our current project for a while. But today we had a breakthrough in…”

It was nice to take a break from all the chaos and just talk to Izzy about her life. If only Alec’s mind didn’t keep drifting to Magnus, and the forlorn look in his eyes every time Ragnor mentioned the name _Asmodeus._

“What are you thinking about?”

Alec startled as Magnus’s voice broke the quiet and nearly dropped his book on Magnus’s face. He really shouldn’t have been surprised that Magnus caught him out for overthinking. He hadn’t turned a page in at least twenty minutes.

Magnus shifted onto his back so he could properly look up at him. “Alexander?”

He had his head resting in Alec’s lap, legs stretched out along the couch, reading a book of his own. The book looked rather heavy, and it couldn’t have been comfortable holding it open sideways like that, but Alec supposed he just wanted to be close.

In the wake of the Edomai demon attack, he had noticed Magnus shifting closer than he normally did—leaning casually against Alec’s side, taking his hand across the dinner table, cuddling up to him when they went to sleep. Alec was still trying to figure out how to subtly encourage him closer without alerting Magnus to the fact that he knew what he was doing—he was convinced that if Magnus knew how transparent he was being with his feelings, he would stop expressing them.

For now, he just ran a hand through Magnus’s hair. “Shadowhunters.”

“Shadowhunters?” Magnus questioned. “What about them?”

What, indeed.

When Cat had outlined the story of their battle with Asmodeus, and the hordes of demons he’d unleashed upon New York, Alec had asked, “What about the Shadowhunters?”

Cat had quirked an eyebrow.

“There were real Shadowhunters then, right?” Alec had elaborated. “Weren’t they supposed to be helping fight these demons?”

She’d snorted. “What Shadowhunters are _supposed_ to do rarely dictates what they _actually_ do. No, the Clave decided that it was a Downworld issue and that they were going to sit this one out. I imagine they were hoping we would wipe each other out and do their work for them.”

Ragnor had sipped at his coffee, lip curling in disgust. “It backfired spectacularly, of course. As you can see, there are no more Shadowhunters.”

“What happened to them?”

“Faded into oblivion once there were no more demons to hunt. Their institutions crumbled and all of their _fierce_ warriors wandered out into the Mundane world. Angelic magic has been weakening alongside demonic magic, you have to understand. There was nothing left for them to hunt, and little power left for them to hunt _with._ ” 

It had made something ugly curl in Alec’s chest, hearing all that. He didn’t know where it left him, as the unwitting heir to a sordid and ruined legacy. He didn’t know what he was supposed to _do_ with all that weight, that history of hatred that he didn’t even properly own.

“I was thinking about how they failed you,” he told Magnus.

Magnus waved a hand. “It’s the core of the Shadowhunter playbook, failing the Downworld, if not outwardly working against us,” he said. “Granted, this was a particularly egregious example, but none of us were really expecting them to show up and help.”

“Yeah, but it’s not _right_ ,” Alec complained. It felt like an incredibly useless thing to say.

Magnus cast a humoring smile up at him. “It’s not. But it’s how it was. Quite frankly, one of the few good things to come out of that nightmare was the dissolution of the Clave. We paid dearly for it in magic, though.”

Alec played with the strands of Magnus’s hair, still thinking. “I want to make it right.”

“What?”

“What the Shadowhunters did.”

Magnus blinked, and then he was pushing himself up, bumping his forehead on Alec’s book when he didn’t move it out of the way fast enough.

“Darling,” he said, “you aren’t responsible for rectifying their actions. You only learned that any of this even existed a few months ago. It’s not up to you to fix their legacy just because your great-great-grandparents were Shadowhunters.”

“It’s not about fixing their legacy. It’s about being there for _you_ , _now_ , in the way that they weren’t. It’s about making sure that this time, you _do_ have a Shadowhunter on your side. I mean, a shitty one, probably, but it’s better than nothing.”

Magnus cupped his cheek with a soft smile. “If more Shadowhunters at the time had been like you, my dear, things may have turned out differently.”

“I’m just glad you guys made it through,” Alec said. “But, to be honest, I’m still a little confused about how it worked out that way.”

“What do you mean?”

It was a question that had been nagging at Alec recently, something Cat and Ragnor’s explanation hadn’t clarified. “Why did _you_ have to deal with it? I mean, I know you, and I know if you saw a catastrophe like that happening you would step in, but I don’t understand why _you_ were the only one who could close the rift. Cat and Ragnor are both pretty powerful, right? Couldn’t they help? Couldn’t _anyone_ help?”

Magnus went still as he spoke, then slowly shifted so he was facing Alec more directly, tucking his legs underneath himself.

“There is something,” he began slowly, “that Cat and Ragnor didn’t tell you. I suppose they thought it wasn’t their secret to reveal.”

He took a deep breath, and Alec took a hold of his hand, stroking his thumb over his knuckles.

“Asmodeus is no random demon,” Magnus said, looking away over Alec’s shoulder. “He is my father.”

As soon as he said it, Alec felt like he should have realized it before, but the sheer quantity of information he’d been swimming in recently had muddled the finer details. Now, everything slotted into place and the story became clear.

And much more frightening.

 _“Magnus,”_ he said, agonized, mind racing, reevaluating what he’d been told. If this was the case, it meant that Magnus had had to fight and banish his own _father_ , that his father had tried to _kill him_ —and that he was in much more danger now than Alec had even thought.

Magnus flinched. “I know it’s horrifying to consider,” he started to say, “but I promise I’m not—”

“No, no, Magnus.” Alec cradled his cheek and turned his face until their eyes met. Magnus’s expression was distant and hurt. “Whatever you’re thinking, don’t. I just meant— he _hurt_ you.”

“ _That’s_ what upset you?” Magnus’s voice was hollow with disbelief.

“Of course.”

“I thought you’d be afraid.”

“Afraid of you?”

Magnus nodded.

Alec slid his hand down to cup his neck. “How could I ever be afraid of you? I mean, I’m afraid of Asmodeus, sure—the guy sounds fucking terrifying to be honest—but never you.”

“I have his same power,” Magnus protested.

“But not his heart,” Alec said. “That’s what’s important.”

Magnus stared at him, looking for any hint of a lie in Alec’s expression. Alec sat quietly and let him work through his thoughts, forcing himself to give him a moment even when a tear slid down Magnus’s cheek.

Then Magnus flung himself into Alec’s arms, burying his face in Alec’s shoulder. “I love you,” he murmured into the fabric of his shirt.

Alec was so glad to be able to hold him, for Magnus to want him to. He pulled Magnus into his chest, cradling the back of his head in one palm.

“I’m sorry,” Magnus said, voice wavering.

“No, no, it’s okay,” Alec said, rubbing his back, “it’s okay, baby, I love you.”

At that, Magnus pulled away, tilting his head. “‘ _Baby?’”_

“What?”

“Oh, nothing.” He smiled a little. “It’s just that I’m four hundred years old.”

“I don’t see how that’s relevant.”

Magnus’s smile widened. “I see. Very well then. I suppose I have no objections to this pet name.”

“Oh, as long as you _suppose_.” Alec pulled Magnus back to his chest, grinning when Magnus tucked his head under his chin. “ _Baby_.”

Magnus laughed, and Alec’s heart swelled to hear it. “I do love you.”

“I know.” Alec pressed a kiss into his hair. “It’s gonna be okay, you know.”

Magnus sighed. “I hope you’re right.”

“It will be. We’ll—”

Banging on the door interrupted them.

Magnus lifted his head, looking towards the foyer. They both waited a long moment, then the banging came again.

“Aren’t Cat and Ragnor keyed into the wards?” Alec asked.

Magnus nodded. “All of my friends are. But I don’t— the wards aren’t telling me who’s outside the door. I can’t get a signature.”

They looked at each other, and slowly, Alec maneuvered himself off the couch and went to the kitchen to fetch the familiar steak knife.

When he returned, Magnus raised an eyebrow. “Again with the knife?”

“Hush. This knife is going to protect you from demons.”

Magnus kept looking at it. “We need to find you a proper weapon.”

Alec didn’t know what that meant, but he didn’t get a chance to ask as the banging at the door came again. They looked at each other silently and slowly moved into the foyer, Alec wielding his knife, Magnus’s magic curling in the palm of his hand.

They reached the door, nodded once to each other— and Magnus yanked it open.

Alec was fully prepared to stab whoever was on the other side—a fact about himself he should probably examine—but it was just Raphael, looking peeved and extremely tired. His eyes raked over Alec’s knife and finally snapped up to his face.

“If you try to fucking stake me with that, I’m coming back as a ghost to haunt you.”

“Raphael,” Magnus said as Alec slowly lowered his knife. “What are you doing here?”

“What are _you_ doing here?” Raphael countered.

“I live here.”

“Apparently you get attacked by demons here, too, or weren’t you going to tell me about that?”

Magnus sighed, opening the door wider so Raphael could come in. “You heard about that.”

“No thanks to you. Or Cat. Or Ragnor,” Raphael said as Magnus led him over to the couch. Alec trailed behind warily. “Was anyone going to tell me about the impending apocalypse?”

“Nope!” Magnus said cheerfully, sitting in his armchair with a flourish. “That’s just what happens when you get adopted by a bunch of ancient warlocks, darling. We’re forgetful, you know.”

“Magnus.” Raphael stood in front of him, arms crossed. He looked deadly serious now. “This isn’t a joke. Your life is in danger.”

“I’m well aware.”

“Then why didn’t you tell me?”

“Fine, if you must know.” Magnus looked away, shifting uncomfortably in his chair. “I didn’t want you involved.”

“What?”

Magnus didn’t repeat himself, just played with his ear absently, still looking away.

“That’s not your call to make,” Raphael said.

“It is, actually,” Magnus said. “It’s _my_ problem we’re dealing with.”

“Oh, of course. Because if you die, we all just go on like normal, right? Is that what you think? You think you dying isn’t a problem for me?”

“That’s not what I—” Magnus started to protest. Then he deflated, sinking into the chair. “Never mind. I don’t want you involved in this. That’s the end of it.”

His tone brooked no argument, but Raphael argued anyway. “Oh, but _he_ gets to be involved?” he pointed at Alec. Alec took a step back, hands raised.

Magnus bristled. “You think I _want_ him involved? You think I want _any of you_ involved? If I could get them to leave, they wouldn’t be here.”

Raphael looked hurt. “You think _I_ would leave.”

“No, I know you wouldn’t, which is exactly why I didn’t tell you.”

Raphael let out a long-suffering sigh. It reminded Alec distinctly of Ragnor. “Magnus.” 

Magnus looked away, jaw working. Raphael crouched in front of him, placing a delicate hand on Magnus’s knee.

“Magnus, listen to me.”

Magnus still wouldn’t meet his eyes.

_“Magnus.”_

Finally, Magnus’s gaze flickered over to him. He looked so raw that Alec felt like he should leave the room, but before he could, Raphael said:

“The first time Asmodeus attacked, I wasn’t able to help you. I had just been turned, and I didn’t have control of my powers, or know anything about the Shadow World. I would have been more of a hindrance than a help.”

Magnus didn’t say anything, just watched him. Alec wasn’t sure he was breathing.

“It’s different this time.” Raphael often looked serious, but now his gaze was as warm as Alec had ever seen it—granted, he didn’t have much of a basis to go on, but still he recognized the rarity of the moment. Magnus did, too—his hand came to rest over Raphael’s, his lips turning up in a sad little smile.

“I can help,” Raphael said. “You know I can. And— you’re my family. I want to help you.”

Now Magnus had tears in his eyes. One rolled slowly down his cheek.

Raphael finished, “I couldn’t be there for you then. I want to be here for you now.”

Magnus reached out to cup his cheek. “My darling boy,” he said.

Alec was just starting to slink out of the room when the moment broke.

Raphael stood up again, patting Magnus on the shoulder before pulling away.

“How did you find out about this, anyway?” Magnus asked.

“I pried it out of Ragnor. He was being all… _cagey_ when he called. Still wouldn’t portal me to New York, of course. None of you would. I had to take a plane, Magnus. A _plane._ Vampires do _not_ take _planes._ ”

“Apparently, you do.”

Raphael glared at him, but then he was turning away, rubbing at his eyes. “The timing of this is truly terrible.”

Alec couldn’t help but agree.

“I disagree,” Magnus said. “You see, even Asmodeus doesn’t want you involved. He said, ‘I’ll attack when Raphael is in Mexico for three months. Then he won’t have to be involved!’ I may have to send him a card.”

“It’s because he knew I’d kick his ass,” Raphael growled.

“Get in line,” Alec said.

Raphael cast him a withering glare, another thing Alec figured he must have picked up from Ragnor. “I’ve been in line for a hundred years. _You_ get in—”

“How _was_ Mexico City, by the way?” Magnus interrupted.

“It was good,” Raphael said, and for a moment Alec thought he would accept the change of subject, but then he just said, “there are no Greater Demons there.”

“Oh for the love of—”

“Is that my dearest Raphael’s voice that I hear?” Ragnor called out as he strode in from the front door. “I didn’t know you were coming.”

“Ha ha ha,” Raphael said tonelessly. “It wouldn’t have been a surprise if you’d portalled me in.”

Ragnor tutted. “I wanted you to experience the modern marvel of _commercial air travel_. A truly incredible feat of torture, isn’t it? The demon realms could take note.”

He was carrying a tray of Starbucks drinks which looked frankly absurd in his hands, and passed a brightly-colored one to Magnus, who took it with a little squeal of excitement and immediately started sipping through the straw. Alec knew from personal experience getting Magnus drinks that whatever he was drinking was overly complicated, different from anything he’d ordered before, and had at least four shots of espresso.

Ragnor snapped his fingers and a drink that Alec assumed was blood, though it was also in a Starbucks cup, appeared in Raphael’s hands.

“Why are you drinking caffeine at 11:30 pm?” Raphael demanded, though he immediately started drinking the blood. He must have been starving, if he’d just been on a flight.

“Time isn’t real,” Magnus said around his straw.

Ragnor still had two cups in his tray, which meant he’d gotten something for Alec, too. Which Alec could only assume meant his pettiness and his manners had battled it out and his manners had won.

This, Alec thought, would be the moment to wonder how his life had become this. Lounging around with three immortal beings, drinking Starbucks, and planning an assault on a literal fallen angel.

Instead of thinking about it too hard, he just took the coffee Ragnor offered him and sat down on the couch.

Ragnor sat down in the other armchair with the ease of someone who owned the place, and Raphael looked among the three of them.

“Are you living here now, too?” he asked Ragnor.

“I don’t technically live here,” Alec told him, though he’d been spending so much time in Magnus’s loft recently that he wondered if that was even true. Raphael ignored him.

“No, I’m staying at the Plaza,” Ragnor said. “I have class.”

Magnus’s mouth popped open. “Ex _cuse_ me. What’s wrong with my apartment?”

Raphael and Ragnor exchanged a look.

“It’s a hormonal nightmare,” Ragnor said.

“No one wants to be in the middle of this,” Raphael agreed, gesturing between Magnus and Alec.

Magnus looked so offended it was almost comical, especially considering he’d shifted as they were speaking so that he was slumped sideways in his chair, one leg slung over the arm and bare foot planted right in Alec’s lap. Alec had a hand wrapped around his ankle and was rubbing at the skin idly.

But as Alec watched, the frown in Magnus’s eyes turned to a mischievous glimmer.

“Well, I’m sorry you feel that way,” he said—and picked himself up and plopped down right in Alec’s lap.

Alec scrambled to grab a hold of him, nearly spilling his coffee all over the expensive upholstery. Magnus beamed at his friends, then planted a very wet kiss on Alec’s cheek.

“Magnus, I’m already asexual,” Raphael said. “You don’t need to work so hard to convince me of it.”

Ragnor flicked a little ball of magic at Magnus’s face the way one might use a spray bottle to discourage a cat from eating a bouquet.

“I know you constantly want to climb your unnecessarily tall boyfriend like a tree, but there’s a time and place for it,” he said.

Why was he _unnecessarily_ tall? Alec wondered. That was just his height! It wasn’t like he had chosen it. He wasn’t even that much taller than Magnus, anyway.

Alec decided he’d had about enough of the double-teaming, even if it was all in good fun. So he took Magnus’s chin in his hand, turned his head, and placed a very sloppy kiss directly on his lips, enjoying the sound of Magnus’s delighted laughter.

When he was done, he turned a fierce gaze on Ragnor and Raphael, daring them to challenge him. Raphael was covering his eyes. Ragnor looked vaguely shellshocked.

“Are we done?” Alec demanded. “Weren’t we supposed to be planning something?”

Magnus smirked and planted another kiss on Alec’s cheek, which wasn’t actually helping Alec make his point.

Ragnor leaned forward onto his knees, a serious expression falling back onto his face. “Yes. So, about the ley lines…”

The next day, Alec was just coming out of a client meeting—work stopped for no Greater Demon—when Magnus called him.

“Cat and Ragnor have found something,” he said.

Alec was supposed to meet them in Central Park, where there was apparently a convergence point between two ley lines.

“Right in the center of the park,” Magnus had said. That didn’t really narrow it down, but as Alec walked uptown along the winding paths that threaded through the park, he soon spotted the warlocks leaning over the side of a small bridge. The air around them shimmered a little, which Alec now knew meant they were glamouring themselves from passersby.

Magnus waved once he spotted him, and Alec quickly caught up to them.

“Do you see that?” Magnus said, pointing down into the water below. His other hand wound its way around Alec’s back, clutching at his shirt.

Alec looked down. Below the bridge, a stream trickled its way through the park, bubbling over rocks and around reeds. Alec wasn’t sure what Magnus wanted him to see. But as he looked closer, he started to notice streams of energy threading through the water, little sparks of light that jumped from ripple to ripple.

“Is that electricity?”

“Magic,” Magnus corrected. “We’re right above the convergence point. Well, there are several convergence points in New York, but this is the only one that doesn’t require breaking and entering to access.”

Alec turned to look at him, eyebrows raised. “Spoken from experience?”

Magnus grinned. “Certainly not. Who do you think I am?”

Ragnor snorted. “It’s not normally like this,” he said. “Normally, the currents of magic flowing up from the ley lines should only be visible when probed on an energy plane. Now, they’re visible to the naked eye for anyone who has the Sight.”

Before Alec could ask what that meant, Cat added, “The lines are unstable. Someone’s tampering with them.”

They all looked at each other. No one had to say the name _Asmodeus_ for it to be clear.

The humor vanished from Magnus’s expression. “All of this magical bleed-off is dangerous. Both for magic-users and the general public.”

Understanding clicked through in Alec’s mind. “Is that why your wards have been messed up?”

Magnus nodded. “The wards draw heavily on the power of the ley lines so that they aren’t constantly draining my magic. This means that anything that affects the lines also affects my wards.”

“And what about your magic?”

Magnus bit his lip. “Not yet,” he said, “but if the lines fray out any more, my control over my magic—all of our control over our magic—could be compromised. It’s not so much because we rely on the ley lines for our source of power, which we don’t, but because all magic is interconnected. If the ambient magical currents are going haywire, it makes casting much more difficult—like trying to speak underwater. The very atmosphere fights against you.” 

“So how do we fix it?” Alec asked.

Cat’s lips quirked up when he said ‘we,’ which was maybe fair, but Alec was serious about his question.

“We’ll place a temporary seal over the lines to stabilize them,” Ragnor said. “That should give us more time. But the problem won’t be _solved_ until we can stop the person tampering with them—Asmodeus.”

Alec could tell just from looking at them that they didn’t have a lead on that front yet.

Magnus looked particularly troubled. “The fact that the lines’ power is _growing_ when it’s been depleting for decades…” he said quietly, looking off into the distance. “It’s disconcerting.”

Cat laid a hand on his arm.

“I think we can fairly assume that was all Asmodeus’s doing,” Ragnor said. “Though what he’s _doing_ with the power, I shudder to think.”

“I should have seen it,” Magnus said to himself, still looking distant. “I should have noticed _years ago_ , maybe then we could have—”

“Stop,” Ragnor interrupted. “Asmodeus excels at hiding his tracks. We were all certain the ley line depletion resulted from the demonic realms being sealed off. Even the Council thought so.”

“The Council…” Magnus mused. “What are the odds on us getting their help? I seem to recall a few of the Elders having experience with this sort of problem. Jordana, for instance, though I’m sure there are others.”

Cat and Ragnor exchanged a look.

“Magnus…” Cat began, “when was the last time you were at the Spiral Labyrinth?”

Magnus seemed to find the question odd. He frowned. “Oh, I don’t know… early 1940s? I’ve been a bit out of touch. I seem to recall they were limiting visitors at the time.”

“They’ve progressed past limiting visitors.” Cat seemed to be approaching the subject gently, though Alec wasn’t sure why. He didn’t think it was personal for Magnus. “The Council has shut off the Labyrinth entirely. The wards are locked, no one allowed in or out.”

Now Magnus turned to her, eyes wide. “They’ve _what?_ You mean— what, the library, too?”

Cat nodded.

“Why would they—” Magnus seemed to realize the answer to his question as he asked it. He closed his eyes, sounding almost pained as he spoke. “To preserve what little magic was left before it vanished.” His eyes snapped open, and he looked almost angry now, on top of that unbearable sadness. “They can’t just _do_ that. They can’t just— lock away all of that knowledge! The community needs those resources!”

Ragnor shrugged. “We’ve already made all the arguments. The Council was unmoved. It’s done, Magnus.”

Alec was alarmed to see that Magnus had tears in his eyes. “This is all my fault,” he said, “all of it.” Alec reached over to take his hand, but Magnus shifted away before he could, his fingers digging into his palms.

Cat and Ragnor had clearly heard this argument before. “Because the world would be so much better off as Edom 2.0,” Ragnor said. “You couldn’t have known what sealing off the demonic realms would do to magic. We were being overrun by demons. When you’re bleeding out, you don’t stop to worry about whether cauterizing the wound will leave a scar.”

“This isn’t a superficial matter,” Magnus argued, “it’s _all of magic._ ”

“And who knows! Maybe when we stop Asmodeus from fucking with us, we’ll get it back!” Ragnor yelled. “But even if we don’t, I’m not listening to this anymore.”

“ _Ragnor_ ,” Cat warned.

“No! I’m not going to keep listening to him torture himself over something that wasn’t his fault! I’ve been listening for decades and I’ve had _enough!”_

Magnus froze in shock, tears still streaming silently down his cheeks.

 _“You,”_ Ragnor started, turning on Magnus. His composure was slipping, and there was a single tear dampening his eyelashes, “You have been hurting yourself for too long. You think you can just— what? Deprive yourself of your magic? Lock it away and pretend it doesn’t exist? That _you_ don’t exist? You think that will solve _anything?”_

Magnus flinched and backed up until he bumped into Alec’s chest. Alec wrapped a steadying arm around him, wondering if he should intervene. Ragnor’s words were cutting Magnus to the quick, but from the way his eyes were riveting on Ragnor, Alec wondered if maybe it was something Magnus needed to hear.

He was having trouble making sense of the words himself. Magnus had locked _his own_ magic away? Alec knew that Magnus had been living essentially without magic for a long time before they’d met, but he’d assumed it was a natural consequence of the ley line depletion. Not a _conscious decision._

“I don’t—” Magnus started.

“I know exactly what you’re going to say,” Ragnor interrupted. “ _‘I don’t deserve it after what I did.’ ‘My powers are too dangerous.’ ‘I’ll ruin magic even further if I touch it.’_ We’ve had this argument five hundred times, Magnus, and I refuse to listen to any more undeserved self-flagellation. You nearly _died_ , do you even understand that? You nearly _died_ closing that rift, but you didn’t, you survived. Then you shut yourself away, and it’s like you might as well have died anyway.”

Magnus was shaking in Alec’s arms. Alec pulled him closer.

“Okay, that’s enough,” he said, at the same time as Cat said, “ _Ragnor._ Too harsh.”

Remorse flashed briefly across Ragnor’s face, but he turned to Cat anyway and said, quietly, “He needs to hear it.”

“You don’t have to beat him over the head with it.”

Alec took Magnus’s arm and turned him until he could look him in the eye. “You okay?” he said softly.

Magnus wiped at his eyes. “I’m fine. He means well.”

“I know he does. It’s the only reason he’s not in the river right now.”

That got a laugh out of Magnus. “You know, that might actually endear you to him.”

Ragnor and Cat were still having a hushed conversation. Finally, Ragnor turned to Magnus.

“I apologize for yelling,” he conceded, “but I stand by my words.”

“I’d expect nothing less,” Magnus said. He was smiling a little, now. “But watch yourself, or I’ll have my _unnecessarily tall_ Shadowhunter bodyguard hurl you off the bridge.”

Ragnor looked from Alec’s arm, still wrapped around Magnus, up to Alec’s face. Alec held his gaze and raised an eyebrow.

Unexpectedly, Ragnor smiled fondly. “He’s not a pet, Magnus,” he chided.

“Perhaps,” Magnus allowed, leaning on Alec’s arm, “but that doesn’t mean I can’t show him off.”

Ragnor shook his head. “God, you’re insufferable.”

Cat was watching them with a soft smile. “Now that we’ve resolved that nonsense, can we get to work?”

“Yes.” Magnus turned back to the water, rubbing his hands together, magic sparking between them. “Where shall we start?”

“You were going to seal the ley lines,” Alec said.

“Just so. Ragnor, do you care to lead?”

As Ragnor began summoning power, Alec leaned in close to Magnus, speaking only for his ears. “Will you let me help you?”

“What did you have in mind?”

Alec was really relieved that it wasn’t an immediate _no._ “I don’t know much about this,” he said, “but I was thinking— when we ran into that demon, the first time, you said— that when I took your hand—”

Magnus blinked once, twice, the memory settling over him like a layer of magic. “I did say that.” He turned to meet Alec’s eyes, taking a hold of one of his hands. “And it’s true—I can draw energy from anyone, of course, but when it’s you—it’s different. It’s… powerful. We click.”

Alec hummed in agreement. “So will you let me help you?”

Magnus considered it. “I’d rather one of us not be exhausted, if possible. With three warlocks, we should be able to manage it.” When he saw Alec starting to object, he added, “How’s this. If I feel myself flagging, I promise I’ll ask for your help.”

Alec squeezed his hand and nodded. “It’s a deal.” He leaned in to kiss him. Magnus hummed under his lips, pleasantly surprised.

When Alec pulled away, Magnus was quirking an eyebrow at him. “For luck,” Alec explained. He could practically hear Ragnor gagging behind them, but he didn’t look away from the soft smile on Magnus’s face.

Magnus pressed a hand to Alec’s heart and just watched him for a moment, the corners of his eyes crinkling. “My darling.”

Alec took his hand and held it as Magnus turned back to his friends. The three warlocks looked at each other, evidently having some sort of silent communication, and then they were throwing tendrils of magic out over the river.

Alec watched, fascinated, as the three distinct strands of magic interwove over the water, battening down the sparks dancing up from the stream. It was evidently very hard work—Cat’s arm was already shaking, sweat was beading along Ragnor’s brow, and Magnus had a death grip on Alec’s hand. But it seemed to be working. Alec watched as the strands of wild magic started to sink back down under the surface.

Then something went wrong.

A gap appeared in the net they were forming.

“Magnus!” Ragnor snapped. “Pay attention!”

But Magnus was staring off into the distance, eyes glazed.

Alec tugged on his hand. “Magnus?”

“It’s not going to work,” Magnus said quietly.

Then he was wrenching himself out of Alec’s grip and climbing over the wall to drop down into the river below.

Alec ran to the wall to look down. “Magnus!”

Thankfully, the drop wasn’t far, and the water was shallow. It ran around Magnus’s shins as he stared under the bridge.

“Magnus!” Alec called again.

Finally, Magnus’s gaze flicked up to him. “He’s pushing back!” he yelled. “I’ll— I’ll hold him back, and you two finish the seal.”

Cat and Ragnor didn’t look happy about that, but they didn’t say so, just redoubled their efforts on the net. Magnus raised a shaking hand, dripping peals of magic into the water. It sizzled where it impacted the strands drifting off the ley line.

Alec vaulted himself over the wall, splashing into the water below with a grunt. Magnus startled as he landed, but didn’t move away.

“Take my hand,” Alec said.

Magnus hesitated for a moment, then wrapped his hand around Alec’s.

Power arced between them, jolting through Alec’s entire body. He could _feel_ Magnus’s magic, surrounding him, trickling along his veins, a staticky sort of warmth.

Magnus pulled on his energy, and suddenly magic was pouring twice as strong from his hands. It flared around them and into the water, which started frothing, the current picking up until it was rushing around their legs.

“We’ve almost got it!” Cat yelled from the bridge. “Just another minute.”

“Take whatever you need!” Alec called to Magnus over the sound of the coursing water.

“Alexander—”

“Just take it!”

Magnus’s pull on his energy increased, making Alec stumble forward. Magnus turned to look at him.

“I’m good! Stay focused!”

The river was fighting them, trying to sweep them off their feet. Alec stepped behind Magnus to brace him as he threw all of his strength into holding back the frothing energy.

“We got it!” Cat yelled, at the same instant that the pressure against Magnus vanished.

Without resistance to hold him up, he went tumbling forward into the river. Alec rushed forward to catch him, twisting his body so he could cushion Magnus’s fall.

The water was ice cold as it enveloped them, surging briefly over Alec’s head before he was able to push them both back up to sitting. Magnus was shaking a little in Alec’s arms, though whether from cold or exertion, Alec couldn’t tell.

“Hey,” he said, pushing Magnus’s wet hair out of his eyes, “you okay?”

“I could feel him,” Magnus said. He tucked his head under Alec’s chin. “In the energy stream. I could _feel_ him.”

“It’s okay.” Alec ran a hand up and down his back, fingertips dragging in the wet fabric. “It’s okay, baby, you’re okay now.”

Magnus’s laugh was little more than a warm breath. _“Baby.”_

“Yeah,” Alec said. “Baby.”

“Magnus!”

They both looked up to find Ragnor waving his arms at them.

“Get out of there, the seal is breaking!”

“It’s what?” Magnus asked.

“Break—”

A colossal wave of water and energy crashed over them. Alec felt Magnus flail for him and finally grab a hold of the collar of his shirt, half-choking him as the current ripped them away from each other.

Alec wrapped a hand tight around Magnus’s wrist and swam for the surface.

He burst up into the air with a huge gasp, dragging Magnus with him. Magnus clung to him, panting, as the water level settled back down, depositing them a hundred yards or so away from where they’d started.

Ripples of power were running up and down Magnus’s body—some his own magic, some remnants of the ley lines. One of the sparks ran onto Alec’s hand and gave him a little static shock.

“Are you okay?” Magnus gasped, lips pressed to the skin of Alec’s neck.

Alec nodded. “All good. You?”

It took Magnus a moment to answer. “I’m—” he took a deep breath. “I don’t like water,” he finally admitted. “But I’ll be fine.”

Cat and Ragnor were running down the bank and finally reached them. Magnus lifted his head from Alec’s shoulder.

“A-fucking-plus seal, Ragnor. I think that’s a new record.” There was little real heat in his voice.

“Oh, piss off.” Ragnor waded through the water to reach his side and touched him gingerly on the shoulder. “Are you injured?”

“No, just tired and wet and royally annoyed. All that work for nothing.” Magnus staggered to his feet, offering Alec a hand up. Alec climbed to his feet beside him.

“Not for nothing. We learned what _won’t_ work,” Cat observed.

“What does it mean?” Alec asked.

“Asmodeus has, as far as we can tell, been pulling power from the ley lines for the last century,” Magnus said. “Now, it seems, he’s pushing all that power back into the world—trying to break through. Once realms are separated, it takes a massive amount of energy to reconnect them.”

“Is there any other way to stop him from getting through?”

“Not via the ley lines.” Magnus tapped his chin in consideration. He looked like he had an idea, and somehow Alec got the distinct feeling that he was going to hate it. “Perhaps…”

Cat looked at him sharply. “Magnus Bane, the next words out of your mouth _better_ not be ‘let’s go to Edom.’”

Guilt flashed across Magnus’s face for half a second. “Now why would I suggest that?”

_“Magnus…”_

“No one’s going to Edom,” Ragnor said. “We can’t get there anyway, or did you forget that the realms are sealed off?”

“Right, of course,” Magnus said. “Back to the books it is, then.”

Alec tried to catch his eye, but Magnus was looking away from him, playing with his ear. Alec didn’t like to pry into Magnus’s thoughts when he wanted to keep them to himself, but he’d have to try to remember to do so anyway later. Magnus clearly wasn’t telling them something, and Alec didn’t like the feeling that put in his gut.

Magnus smiled and waved to his friends, taking Alec’s hand. “Well, this has been a riveting excursion, but we’ll be off now. I have a hot shower and a steak calling my name, and neither of them are in the middle of this river.”

Ragnor and Cat were watching him carefully, evidently having the same thoughts as Alec about Magnus’s evasion, but they didn’t call him on it.

Magnus opened a slightly shaky-looking portal and pulled Alec through.

“I want to take you out tonight.”

It had been several hours since the ley line incident, and they were both freshly showered and dressed in clean clothes. Magnus was nursing what Alec was pretty sure was his third mug of tea and frowning down at whatever he was reading, clearly troubled by it.

Magnus looked up from his book. “Why?”

“Because you’ve been under a lot of stress,” Alec said, “and you deserve the chance to unwind.”

He half-expected Magnus to protest, but Magnus just smiled faintly at him. “That sounds nice. What did you have in mind? Drinks somewhere?”

“I was thinking,” Alec started cautiously, “we should make use of your club.”

“My… club?”

Alec didn’t know why Magnus seemed confused.

“You know. Your club,” he repeated. “The one that you own.”

Magnus frowned. “I’m not much for clubbing, I’m afraid.”

“You own a nightclub.”

“These things are not necessarily correlated.”

Alec shot him an _explain yourself, then_ sort of look. 

Magnus sighed. “Alright, if you must know—the truth is, Pandemonium was purchased on a dare.”

Alec raised an eyebrow, and Magnus explained:

“Raphael told me I wasn’t ‘cool.’ I argued that I was. He said, ‘prove it.’ And here we are.”

Alec couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled out of his chest. “ _That’s_ how you came to own one of the most popular clubs in Brooklyn?”

“Is it popular?” Magnus asked idly. “I wouldn’t know. I’m rarely there. My business manager handles everything.”

“Well, you’ll be there tonight,” Alec said. Then he hesitated, uncertainty creeping through him. “Unless you hate the idea…?”

Magnus smiled reassuringly. “It’s a rare man that can get me in a nightclub, Alexander,” he said. There was a gleam in his eye as he looked at Alec. “I can’t promise much on my end, but I must say the prospect of seeing _you_ in a club is more than enough to get me in the door.”

Alec couldn’t help the grin that spread across his face. “Well. Alright, then.”

“How do I look?”

At the sound of Magnus emerging from the bathroom, Alec turned to face him.

And could physically feel his mouth drop open.

When Magnus had said he needed to “get ready,” Alec hadn’t expected much. Maybe for him to put on something comfortable enough to dance in, and light enough that he wouldn’t overheat in the press of bodies at the club. Magnus’s style of dress was generally conservative and comfortable, after all.

Not… _this._

He was wearing tight-fitting black jeans that Alec had never seen on him, and what looked like a _mesh_ shirt. He looked… stunning. He looked… incredibly hot. Not that he ever _didn’t_ , but—

Alec wanted to say something to that effect. He meant to. But what came out of his mouth instead was:

“Are you wearing _eyeliner?”_

Magnus reached up to touch the corner of his eye before seeming to realize that he shouldn’t do that and dropping his hand.

“I thought I would— is it not—”

“No!” Alec interrupted, shaking his head a little in disbelief. “You always think everything I say is supposed to be negative. You look _incredible_. I just meant that I’ve never seen you wear it, that's all.”

“Oh. Yes, I don’t often. I haven’t in a long while, and even before then…” Magnus shook his head, lost in thought. “Let’s just say it draws eyes and I usually prefer to keep a low profile.” He smiled, then. “Not that that deterred _you._ ”

“Nope. Not at all. You thought walking into that Institute party in a perfectly-cut suit was _low profile?”_

“It’s not like I had a glowing sign above my head.”

“You did, and it said, _'HI, I'M HOT'_ in all capital letters.”

Magnus grinned bashfully. “Only to you, darling.”

Alec disagreed, but didn’t tell Magnus that he’d seen more than one gaze following him at that party, thinking it might make him uncomfortable if he was trying not to be noticed.

“So do you like it?” he asked instead. “Makeup?”

Magnus shrugged, but there was a glimmer in his eye that suggested he felt more strongly about it than he was letting on. Alec resolved that he would have to find more places to take him where he could wear it without feeling exposed.

He also made a mental note to ask—gently, but still to ask—about Magnus’s impulse to keep himself hidden.

Normally, he wouldn’t have batted an eye at a guy being nervous to wear makeup in public. It wasn’t like it came with no dangers. But Magnus had never given any indication that he cared what strangers thought of him, and he could clearly take care of himself.

No, Alec didn’t think it was other _people_ that Magnus was trying to hide from. And that was far more concerning.

But his goal was to let Magnus relax for a moment, not drag him into a stressful conversation about his past.

He offered Magnus his arm. “Shall we?”

Magnus smiled and took it. Alec _loved_ his smile. “Such a gentleman. You’d think we were going to dinner at Per Se instead of to a veritable rave.”

“Only the best for you, babe,” Alec said as they made their way to the door. Then he frowned. “But actually, _please_ don’t make reservations at Per Se. You know I would do anything for you, but I still need to pay rent.”

Magnus laughed. “If you’re hell-bent on treating me, you could always get rid of that rent payment and stay here.”

Alec stopped, pulling Magnus to a stop beside him. “Wait, really?”

Magnus’s voice had been casual as he said it, and it had clearly slipped out as a half-joke, but his gaze as he looked up at Alec was fragile and hesitant. Alec thought he might take it back, but he just said, “If you want.”

When Alec just stared at him for a long moment, heart pounding, shocked and thrilled by what Magnus was offering, Magnus started to turn away, saying, “Of course. It’s too early. Forget I—”

Alec pulled him back around and kissed him.

Magnus made a soft sound against his mouth, so Alec pulled back just to kiss him again, and then said against Magnus’s lips, “Magnus, I would love nothing more than to move in with you.”

Magnus’s smile was so wide, and Alec wanted to see it always. And now he would, every day, when he woke up next to Magnus and found a new way to make him smile.

Magnus wrapped a hand around the back of his neck and pulled him back down.

Alec was sure they had had a plan, but it vanished from his mind as Magnus stepped back until Alec was able to press him up against the door. He gripped Magnus’s biceps and held him there, leaning down to deepen the kiss, pressing his whole body up against him.

Magnus tangled a hand in his hair and tugged him in even closer, biting at his lip, and _holy shit_ , Alec thought, they could do this every night now. Because he _lived_ here.

Magnus pulled away with a gasp, looking scattered. “We—” it took him a moment to gather his thoughts— “we were going to the club.”

“Right,” Alec said, straightening his shirt, “right, yes. Pandemonium. Right.”

“Right,” Magnus agreed, his pupils blown wide, eyes unglamoured, and the only thing Alec wanted more than to kiss him again was to kiss him when their bodies were thrumming with club music. “Shall I open a portal?”

Alec didn't want Magnus to use any more magic after how much he'd expended working on the ley lines, and insisted they walk.

Inside Pandemonium, the music was loud and the bass heart-pounding. Alec wove them through the crowd, keeping a tight hold on Magnus’s hand until they reached the bar.

He watched Magnus knock back a shot with a raised eyebrow, an incredulous little smile balancing on his lips.

“What?” Magnus asked when he saw Alec watching him.

“Nothing. I’ve just never seen you drink like that.”

Magnus smirked. “When in Rome, darling.”

Alec threw back his own shot, then ordered two more. “When in Rome.”

He could tell Magnus was uncomfortable in the middle of the huge crowd, so he found them a spot near the wall and away from the close press of other bodies.

“Do you want to dance?” he asked. “Or would you prefer to just watch me?”

He did a silly little twirl in place, and was gratified when Magnus laughed, a little of the tension dropping from his shoulders.

“Oh, darling, if you think I’m missing the chance to dance with you,” Magnus said, stepping closer and laying a hand on Alec’s chest, “you are _sorely_ mistaken.”

Alec grinned and tugged him in until their bodies were flush and he could feel the heat of Magnus’s skin radiating through his thin shirt. He leaned so he could speak directly into Magnus’s ear, just a breath: “I was hoping you’d say that.”

Magnus shivered and turned his head to mouth at Alec’s neck, tugging at him until they both started to move to the beat of the music.

Apparently Magnus was never going to stop surprising him, Alec thought, because for someone who professed not to like clubbing, he was an excellent dancer. His sense of rhythm and control over his body were impeccable.

—And _extremely_ hot. Soon enough they were barely dancing and mostly just grinding against each other. Alec pushed Magnus up against the wall, intent on finishing what they’d almost started at the loft. He nipped under Magnus’s jaw, and Magnus gasped, going boneless under him and dragging him closer by the collar of his shirt.

Alec loved to see him let go, even if just for a moment—to just let himself _be_ in his body, be loose and free of the tension that had hovered over him for as long as Alec had known him.

Magnus always held himself _so_ tightly, like he was afraid one wrong step would send everything spinning out of his control. And after learning about what he had been through in his not-so-distant past, Alec couldn’t really blame him.

But that didn’t mean he wanted Magnus to live his life all buttoned-up and hidden, not even granting himself an acknowledgement of his own feelings. Not if he could help him feel more secure.

And Magnus was just so _beautiful_ when he let himself be free.

“It’s the eyeliner, isn’t it?” Magnus was looking at Alec through narrowed eyes. His hair was a disaster, his shirt partially unbuttoned, the eyeliner in question smudged. “That’s what’s got you all hot and bothered.”

“You don’t need eyeliner to be the most attractive man I’ve ever seen,” Alec told him.

Magnus continued to look at him expectantly.

“But yes,” Alec conceded, “the eyeliner is extremely hot.”

Magnus smiled, long and slow. “Thought so.”

And Alec just had to kiss that smug smile off his face.

Alec couldn’t sleep. He was exhausted, and Magnus’s body sprawled across his chest was a comforting weight, but his mind was racing.

He couldn’t stop thinking about the utter failure of their attempt to seal the ley lines. Of Cat and Ragnor saying that under no circumstances were they to consider going to Edom, and Magnus… not quite agreeing, exactly.

Alec had a horrible feeling that this was going to get infinitely worse before it got better. And he knew Magnus. He knew that the worse the situation got, the worse Magnus was going to feel about it, the more he was going to blame himself for it, and the more likely it was that he would do something self-destructive to resolve it.

And Alec felt so powerless, but he just— he had to _do something_.

So he carefully slipped out from beneath Magnus and padded out into the living room.

He turned on a single lamp to light his way, not wanting to wake up Magnus. Not that what Alec was doing was a secret or anything, but Magnus needed to get his rest.

Alec made his way to the bookshelf, scanning it for the books he knew they’d shelved somewhere and finally finding them on the top shelf.

Not just any books. The books Cat had offered him what felt like ages ago now. The ones that, he could only hope, would teach him how to be a Shadowhunter.

Alec pulled one off the shelf at random, brought it over to where the single lamp was casting a meager circle of light, sat down on the couch, and began to read.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> magnus’s friends *whacking him over the head with a cardboard tube*: let us love you! let us love you!
> 
> I feel like there's some contention in the fandom over whether Alec uses pet names with Magnus. If you want to know my actual thoughts on this (you probably don't) it's that TWI!Alec, who grew up in Mundane dating culture, would have no qualms about calling Magnus babe, baby, or any number of other things. Meanwhile canonverse Alec, who grew up in Shadowhunter culture, where the nicest thing people said to their significant other was probably like "hey you over there," probably wouldn't naturally gravitate towards pet names, except for when they encounter their first life-or-death situation and Alec just whips out like a "my love" or some shit and Magnus stares at him and faints 
> 
> Per Se is a real New York restaurant which I discovered by googling “most expensive New York restaurants.” Apparently it’s $325 a plate. Even AU!Magnus has extravagant tastes. 
> 
> Special thanks to DawnDust whose comment last chapter suggested Magnus getting to explore/rediscover his love for makeup and fancy clothes. I liked this so much I stole it for the fic.
> 
> by the way, this is totally un-beta-ed, and I know there's a LOT of backstory, so if I've made something confusing feel free to say so in a comment and I will try to work in an answer in a later chapter
> 
> until next time, whenever that may be ⭐


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's been 84 years....
> 
> new cw: discussion of past child abuse

_“Magnus.”_

_The voice was a booming echo overtaking all of his senses. Magnus curled in on himself, wrapping his arms over his head. He might still be small, but he knew danger when he saw it, had encountered more than enough of it in his short life, and the tall man standing before him—he was dangerous._

_“Magnus.”_

_Or… not. The man crouched before him, and his eyes—they were gold. Just like Magnus’s._

_“Who are you?”_

_The man smiled. It was a sharp smile. “I’m your father.”_

_Magnus swallowed thickly. “I killed my father.”_

_“Your real father.” The man held out a hand, palm up, and a flicker of red flame burst up from his skin. “See? We’re the same.”_

_Magnus held up his own hand, willed the blue flames to come to life in his palm._

_“I’ve been looking for you for a long time,” said the man. “Come with me.”_

_Where else was Magnus supposed to go?_

_He took the man’s hand._

_Magnus stared down at the charred body before him, bile rising in his throat. “This isn’t what I wanted. You said he would be punished for what he did to those kids!”_

_Asmodeus blinked lazily from where he was leaning in the doorframe. “He was punished.”_

_“Not like this.” Magnus backed away from the body, slowly and then faster, almost stumbling. “Not like this.”_

_Asmodeus pushed himself off the door and strode over to the body, crouching beside it. He prodded at the ash._

_“And what about those other people that we ‘helped’?” Magnus demanded. “Is this what happened to them, too?”_

_Asmodeus shrugged. “My son, I merely deliver what you ask for. Are you so ungrateful as to question the method in which I deliver it?”_

_Magnus stared at him, considering. On the one hand, the way his father used power made him nauseous. But on the other hand, the victim in question had hurt children. And he certainly could no longer do that._

_He pushed down the voice that whispered,_ what will he do to you if you leave? _and made his decision._

_“Fine. Let’s go.”_

_“No, stop, no, wait—”_

_The man’s voice broke off as Magnus’s magic squeezed his throat, cutting off his airway. And Magnus kept squeezing, because this man deserved it, he’d hurt people, and besides, the rush of magic in his veins made Magnus feel so_ powerful—

 _Magnus dropped his victim with a startled breath. What was he— what was he_ doing _—_

_“Why’d you stop?” Asmodeus drawled from where he was off to the side, watching, twisting a little ball of magic between his fingers. “He was squirming so beautifully.”_

_He sounded almost bored, totally unaware of the turmoil shaking Magnus’s frame._

_What was he_ doing? _He had wanted, he had_ meant _, to_ help _people, to stop those who were hurting others, not—_

_Not to become one of them._

_He turned on Asmodeus, heart thudding in rage—at himself, more than anything, for being too caught up in his own twisted sense of justice to realize._

_“Is he even what you said?” he demanded, pointing to the man, who was lying on the floor, coughing violently. “Or did you make all of that up? Did he really hurt anyone?”_

_Asmodeus shrugged. “Does it matter? Everyone hurts someone eventually.”_

_That was as clear to Magnus as an outright “no.”_

_He hurtled away from his father, hands raised in self-defense._ “Why?”

_Asmodeus rolled his eyes. “Please don’t tell me you’re having a crisis of conscience. We are well past that point, son.”_

“Why!?” _Magnus demanded, his composure shredding._

_Asmodeus took a step closer, incinerating their victim with a snap of his fingers. Magnus sucked in a breath._

_“You’re soft,” his father said, eyes narrowed. He took another step closer to Magnus. “I needed to toughen you up or you’d be totally_ useless _to me.”_

 _Magnus flinched. “Toughen me up for what_?”

 _“For_ what?” _Asmodeus cackled. “Did you think this was all a game? A little father-son bonding moment? Rid the world of its petty evils? This is preparation. It always has been.”_

_“Preparation for what?” Magnus asked, but he knew. Somewhere deep down, he’d always known, but had wanted to belong somewhere so badly that he hadn’t let himself believe it._

_“If I say ‘world domination’ will you call me cliché?”_

_Magnus’s magic rose in him almost without his bidding. It was powerful now, just as Asmodeus wanted it. It came to his fingertips at the barest thought, bringing all the fires of hell with it._

_Magnus didn’t think. He just acted._

_One hand ripped a hole in the fabric of reality. The other shoved Asmodeus through. Magnus barely had time to take in the surprised betrayal on his father’s face before he was gone, and it was just Magnus, alone in a quiet, dark alleyway just as he’d been when Asmodeus first found him._

_It was dark, and he was alone. He’d always been alone._

_“Why are you doing all this?” Magnus demanded. “Why? Is it just for power?”_

_New York was burning around him, demons dive-bombing screaming pedestrians, and standing amongst it all was Asmodeus, his suit crisp and dust-free, his hands spread as if to say,_ look at the glory, Magnus.

“Why?” _Asmodeus repeated. “Why, for you, my son. My heir. I’m building a kingdom for you.”_

_“Don’t lie to me! I never wanted this.”_

_“It’s not about what you_ want. _It’s what’s good for you. You’re not utilizing your full potential.” He stepped closer, and Magnus forced himself to hold his ground. “You’re so_ powerful _, Magnus. You proved that when you banished me the first time. I want you to use it.”_

_“I don’t want to,” Magnus said._

_“That’s just too bad,” said Asmodeus, “because I’ll burn your city until you do.”_

_“Then you’ll burn me in it.”_

_Asmodeus snarled and lashed his magic at Magnus, and Magnus met him in a clash of fire._

_Magnus didn’t want to be here anymore, trapped in his memories._

_Wake up, wake up, wake up—_

“Magnus.”

Slowly, Magnus opened his eyes and sat up. He was in bed in the loft, Alec still sleeping beside him. He took a deep, slow breath.

A low chuckle had him spinning towards the corner of the room, where Asmodeus was sitting in an armchair, folded in the shadows. His eyes flickered green in the moonlight.

 _No._ This had to be a dream. A— a memory. Asmodeus couldn’t— he was trapped in Edom. He couldn’t—

But Magnus didn’t have a memory of anything like this.

He scrambled to cover Alec with his magic—how had he not woken up?—and Asmodeus laughed again.

“Don’t worry. I won’t harm your Shadowhunter.”

A hollow promise if he’d ever heard one. “What do you want?” Magnus barked, staying close to Alec.

“I don’t want to fight anymore, Magnus. I want to be father and son again.” Asmodeus’s eyes were intent upon him, and Magnus shivered under their gaze.

“It’s too late for that,” he said. “You’ve done too many terrible things.”

“Oh, Magnus. What’s terrible?” Asmodeus spread his hands wide, looking every bit like a professor teaching a seminar on ethics. “And what’s good? Who’s to say. Those are mortal concepts. They change with every tide. But _family…_ ” he pointed from himself to Magnus, drawing an invisible string between them, “that’s real. Family is eternal. It’s forged in blood.”

“Blood means nothing,” Magnus said, but his voice had fallen to a whisper, cowed, as always, by Asmodeus’s indomitable presence. He hated himself for how easily he was affected.

“Blood means _everything_.” Asmodeus stood up. “It’s unbreakable. You think you’ve found a little ‘family’ here?” he gestured to Alec, to the loft in general. “You think he won’t leave you as soon as it gets hard?” He took another step closer. “Only I will _never_ leave you.”

Magnus held up a hand, but it did nothing to deter Asmodeus from coming closer. “Stay back!”

Asmodeus reached for him, and Magnus scrambled away, almost climbing over Alec in his panic.

“Stay—”

He shot up with a gasp, blinking into the darkness, letting out a flare of magic that gusted through the room, knocking several things over and throwing the clothes in his closet into disarray.

No Asmodeus.

Magnus sank back onto the bed, only to realize—

It was empty.

The pillow beside him was cold, no sign of Alec.

What if it hadn’t been a dream? What if Asmodeus had really been there? What if he’d—

Magnus scrambled out of bed and rushed for the living room.

Where he found a lamp on, and Alec sitting calmly on the couch, a book open on his lap.

Magnus deflated, shaking a little from the panic that had surged through him.

Alec looked up. “Magnus? Are you okay?”

Magnus took a few steps closer, and Alec squinted through the gloom to see him better.

“Are you _crying?_ ”

He closed the book and moved as if to get up, but Magnus reached him first. He sat down heavily on the couch beside Alec, pressing up against his thigh.

Alec startled when Magnus’s arm brushed his. “You’re so cold.” He pulled the blanket off the back of the couch to wrap it around him. “What’s wrong?”

“Just a bad dream,” Magnus said, leaning his head on Alec’s shoulder. Although he wasn’t sure it _was_ just a dream. “Will you show me what you’re working on?”

Alec seemed like he wanted to press the issue, but took Magnus’s lead instead. “I’m just reading one of the books Cat gave us. Thought it might be helpful.” He opened the text back up to the page he’d been on and showed it to Magnus.

The pages were discussing the use of runes in combat. While Magnus hated the idea of Alec fighting, he couldn’t deny that the knowledge would likely be necessary in the not-so-distant future.

“I can show you how to use them,” Magnus was offering before he could think twice about it. “Runes, that is.”

Alec looked intrigued. “Really? I thought only Shadowhunters could do it.”

“Child of a Fallen Angel,” Magnus said, gesturing to himself. He summoned the stele to his hand. “I can’t bear the runes myself, but I can draw them on you, if you want.”

“I mean, sure. Yeah, let’s try it.”

Magnus flipped through the book. “Hmm, which one… _endurance_ will just keep you up all night. _Angelic power_ might be a bit much for a first time. Oh, here we go! _Strength._ That will be easy to test.”

He waited. Alec just sat there, staring at him.

“You’re going to want to take off your shirt,” Magnus explained.

Alec smiled faintly even as he moved to do so. “Is this just an elaborate scheme to get my clothes off?”

“I’d hardly need a scheme for that. Go on. _Off_.”

Alec yanked off his shirt. “Didn’t you just draw the healing rune on my arm?”

“Yes, but _strength_ is one of the permanent runes, so it should be closer to your heart.”

Alec frowned. “Permanent?”

“That is to say,” Magnus corrected, “once drawn, it will remain on your skin, and you can activate it whenever you need. As opposed to one like _iratze_ , which fades after use.”

“Oh.” Alec still seemed troubled.

“Are you comfortable with that?”

“Yeah, it’s just— never mind, it doesn’t matter.”

Concern started to curl in Magnus’s stomach. _“Alexander—”_

“I just— the more involved this gets, the more I wonder how I’m supposed to explain all this to Izzy. Or Max. Or— _anyone._ Izzy’s already suspicious. I think she thinks I’ve joined a cult. If I show up with a bunch of, like, _tattoos_ , she’s probably going to stage an intervention.”

“I see.” This was something Magnus was ashamed to realize he hadn’t considered. He’d been so relieved by the ease with which Alec fit into his complicated life that he hadn’t thought about the accommodations Alec was orchestrating on his end to make it happen. “Alec, you don’t have to be a part of this. The last thing I would want is to damage your relationship with your family.”

“I do have to be a part of this. And what else am I supposed to do, march into hell with a gun? That would be ridiculous.” The way he said it, like defending Magnus was a given and it was just a question of how, made something painful flutter in Magnus’s chest. “I just haven’t figured out how to not have it blow up the rest of my life.”

Magnus thought about it. “You can tell Izzy the truth,” he offered, “if you want.” Revealing magic to another person made something nervous flip in Magnus’s stomach, but he had met Isabelle. She was smart and sensible. Not one to go blabbering about the truth to all who’d hear it.

“Seriously?” Alec said. “That won’t put you in danger?”

Magnus shook his head. “She’s your sister, which means she’s also a Shadowhunter by blood, and already has the Sight. In all honesty, she was bound to find out sooner or later. Better that she doesn’t feel like you’ve blindsided her with it.”

“Okay,” Alec said, “that would help, I think. Thanks.”

Magnus patted his arm. “There’s no need to thank me, darling. This is already hard enough for you as it is.”

“Helping you isn’t hard for me,” Alec said.

Magnus sighed. _What am I supposed to do with you?_

“Very well, then. Let’s try out the rune.”

Alec nodded.

Magnus deliberated for a long moment on where to put it. With no other Shadowhunters to help him, Alec needed the rune somewhere he could reach to activate himself. He couldn’t rely on Magnus in the midst of a fight, after all.

He finally decided on his shoulder, and lowered the glowing red tip of the stele to his skin. “This will hurt,” he warned, and Alec nodded.

Magnus drew the rune as quickly as he could with the stele fighting him as it usually did, and Alec hissed.

 _“Shit,_ you weren’t kidding.”

“I’m sorry, dear,” Magnus said, lifting the stele away again and pressing his lips to the rune to kiss it better. He looked at the tool in his hand and smiled wryly. “I never thought I’d see the day.”

“See what?”

“A _Warlock_ teaching a _Shadowhunter_ how to use runes.”

Alec didn’t really have the background to appreciate the absurdity of it, but he smiled when he saw Magnus laughing.

“I’m guessing your friends would get a kick out of it.”

“Oh, Ragnor will lose his _mind._ He might invent time travel just to stick it to the old Clave in person.”

Alec grinned. “So… what do we do now? I don’t… _feel_ any different.”

“Try to pick me up,” Magnus suggested, and winked.

Alec stared at him. “I can already pick you up.”

“Try to do it one-handed.”

This was supposed to be a serious endeavor, but Magnus found he was having too much fun to care.

Alec shrugged. “Okay. Let’s try it.”

He gestured for Magnus to stand up, then walked around him in a circle as he presumably tried to figure out how exactly he was supposed to get a grip on Magnus with only one hand.

Then he scooped an arm under Magnus’s legs and lifted him in one quick motion—

—a motion that was clearly much more powerful than he was anticipating, for Magnus went flying up over his shoulder and Alec only just managed to twist his body in time to catch him before they both went crashing down onto the coffee table, which splintered in two under their combined weight.

Magnus looked down at Alec from where he was splayed out on Alec’s stomach and beamed at him. “Well. I’d say that test was a _smashing_ success.”

Alec rolled his eyes. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

“You’re the one who landed on the table.”

Alec pushed them both up and looked down at the ruined furniture with a grimace. “At least we know it works.”

“I can think of some _other_ tests if you’re unsure,” Magnus said with a wink.

 _“No,”_ Alec said, pointing at him to emphasize his point. “Not until I figure out how it works. It could be dangerous.”

Magnus pouted. “You’re no fun.”

Alec was looking at him, assessing. “So now that we’ve done that, do you want to tell me what you had a nightmare about?”

Magnus knew him well enough by now to not feel blindsided by this. Alec had a tendency to jump back into topics seemingly without impetus. It usually meant that it had been bothering him for a while and he’d been letting it simmer so he could think more about it. Or in this case, give Magnus time to distance himself from it.

Magnus considered the request. “My father,” he said at last. “We spent a lot of time together when I was young. I don’t like thinking about it, but my brain drifts there sometimes anyway.”

Alec sat down on the couch and gestured for Magnus to sit beside him. He seemed to be thinking deeply about this. “He hurt you, didn’t he?”

Magnus nodded. “Although I didn’t realize it until later, after I’d banished him.”

Alec nodded, and it suddenly occurred to Magnus, with visceral clarity, that Alec understood this. Understood it personally.

Alec hadn’t spoken much about his relationship with his parents, other than to say that it wasn’t very good. But Magnus felt like he got the gist of it now.

“He came back for you?” Alec asked.

“Yes. I banished him to Edom once I realized the kind of person he was trying to turn me into, but a few hundred years later he made his way back to Earth, looking for me again.”

“What did he want?”

“Me,” Magnus said, and Alec put a hand on his thigh. “And my power, of course, but mostly me under his thumb. I think he loved me, in his strange way. Or thought he did.”

“They always do,” said Alec.

It was very late, and not the time to pry into Alec’s childhood, but Magnus made a mental note to ask him about it some other time. And God help Maryse and Robert if Magnus didn’t like what he learned.

“It’s late,” Alec said as if reading Magnus’s mind. His voice was subdued now, thinking, perhaps, about his parents. His hand kept rubbing up and down Magnus’s thigh. “You should get some more sleep.”

“Are you coming with me?” Magnus asked. He didn’t really want to admit that without Alec’s solid presence at his side, he’d likely wake up with another nightmare, but—

“Yeah.” Alec rubbed his eyes. “My eyes are glazing over anyway.”

He stood up, offering Magnus his hand to pull him to his feet. But both of them forgot that the strength rune was still activated, and Alec’s tug at Magnus’s arm yanked him up and forward so forcefully that Magnus crashed into his chest.

Alec huffed out a quiet laugh. “That’s gonna be weird to get used to.”

Magnus let himself stay pressed against Alec, tilting his head back to wink at him. “Oh, I don’t know, I think it’ll be _fun_.”

Alec raised an eyebrow. “This was all just a scheme to fulfill a fantasy of yours, wasn’t it? _Oh, Alexander_ ,” he mimicked the cadence of Magnus’s voice, “ _let me draw a rune on you. Think of the sexual tension._ ”

“Well, darling, life can be so stressful and dull. One must pepper in some spice whenever one can.”

“Right now I think we need to pepper in some sleep.” Alec took Magnus’s hand and led him back towards the bedroom, and Magnus felt like he could face even Asmodeus, with Alec’s hand in his.

“So, what’s our next step?” Alec asked the next morning.

His voice was still rough from sleep, and he had his chin propped on Magnus’s chest, his body draped over him. Magnus liked the weight of him, the early morning sun and the heat of Alec’s body combining to make a cushion of warmth.

“We tried sealing the ley lines, and that didn’t work,” Alec elaborated when Magnus didn’t answer, “what’s our next step?”

He said ‘our’ so easily, like his being by Magnus’s side through all of this was just a given. Magnus was still having a hard time with that sentiment, but he caressed Alec’s cheek in thanks anyway.

“There’s a place in the city where the metaphysical barrier between our realm and Edom is particularly thin,” Magnus said. “It’s where Asmodeus broke through last time. I want to go check it out, make sure everything is to rights.”

“Great,” Alec said, “so let’s do it.”

“Darling,” Magnus protested, “don’t you have work? You can’t just— let your entire life fall apart around this. I’d never forgive myself.”

“I’m not, I already moved things around so I’d be free today. Please don’t worry about it, you already have enough to worry about.”

Magnus was very worried about it.

“Alright,” he said anyway, “if you insist.”

He started to sit up, reluctant though he was to lose the comfort of Alec’s body on him, and Alec rolled off to the side to sit up as well.

“Well, then,” Magnus, “off we go to the gates of Hell.”

“Hey, I’ve been meaning to ask,” Alec started, sounding kind of hesitant. He had his arm wrapped around Magnus as they walked, and it tightened a bit as he prepared for whatever he was nervous to say. “I guess I always thought that—before we met—that you weren’t using your magic because it was dying. Because magic in the world was dying. But Ragnor said something about— how you _chose_ not to use it.”

Magnus froze, almost making Alec trip over him before he managed to summon his composure enough to keep walking. “That’s not… wrong.”

“I was wondering why? If it matters so much to you.”

 _It’s because it matters so much to me,_ Magnus thought.

“You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to,” Alec added.

Magnus hummed. “The thing is… banishing my father took a _lot_ of magic. More than I’d ever used in my life. I almost drained myself completely dry. And I could have gotten it back, but since sealing that portal started pulling magic out of the world, it would have taken a significant effort. I suppose I just… didn’t.”

Alec squeezed his hip. “Why not?”

“I had just—” this was still hard for Magnus to talk about, a hundred years later. “I had just _ruined magic._ I— it wasn’t what I was intending, but there’s no doubt that was an unintended consequence of banishing Asmodeus. If my magic could do that, I was afraid of what else it could do. What else it could _destroy._ ”

“You didn’t ruin it,” Alec said softly. “Magnus, can you even imagine what the world would be like if you hadn’t stopped him?”

Oh, Magnus had imagined it. He still had nightmares about the city burning.

“He was there because of me,” he told Alec. “He wanted to ‘build a kingdom’ for me.”

“Doesn’t make it your fault,” Alec insisted.

Alec didn’t understand. It didn’t matter if Magnus had destroyed anything with his own hands or not. It had happened _because of him._ If Magnus had only stopped him earlier, stopped him permanently, magic wouldn’t be where it was today.

So often Magnus found himself thinking back to his childhood, to that first fateful meeting with Asmodeus. So often he found himself yelling at his memory self, _no, don’t! Run! Don’t trust him!_ It all led back to that moment: everything would be fixed, he was sure, if only he hadn’t taken his father’s hand.

Whether Magnus would have survived if he hadn’t was an irrelevant question.

“Magnus, listen to me,” Alec said, pulling him from his thoughts with a tug at his sleeve. “The things he did because of you weren’t _your_ fault. Asmodeus made his own choices. Maybe he thought he was helping you or doing what was right for you, it doesn’t matter. Whatever happened was _his_ fault.”

“Is that what they taught you in therapy?” Magnus said, more bitterly than he intended.

Alec ignored the jibe. “If I told you that my dad used to hit me whenever I got a bad grade on a test, would you tell me it was _my_ fault? That if I just studied harder, he would stop?”

Magnus flinched. “It’s not the same.” Alec didn’t know the things he had done under Asmodeus’s tutelage. Magnus deserved whatever he got in return. He should have been stronger.

“How is it not the same?” Alec demanded.

Magnus couldn’t answer that without revealing the truth of his depraved past, so he remained silent.

“Because you were a ‘bad kid’ and you deserved it?” Alec guessed, and Magnus looked up at him. “Because you didn’t tell him to stop, so technically you were complicit? Yeah, I’ve heard all the arguments, Magnus. Believe me, I’ve told them to myself plenty of times.”

That admission twisted something sharp in Magnus’s chest.

“It wasn’t your fault,” Alec repeated.

“I should never have trusted him!” Magnus snapped. “I should have known better.”

“When you were, what, _seven?_ ”

Magnus tried to pull away, but Alec’s grip tightened on his sleeve.

“I’m serious.” And he looked it—his gaze was so intense that Magnus had to look away, jaw tightening. “You don’t have to keep blaming yourself.”

Magnus didn’t want to argue with him anymore. “Fine,” he said, “you’re right.”

“Magnus…”

He sounded so disappointed. Magnus pulled his arm away; this time, Alec let him go.

They walked in silence after that. Magnus could feel Alec deep in thought beside him, but thankfully he didn’t say anything. Magnus certainly didn’t ask.

Alec was right about one thing. Magnus _would_ be able to stop blaming himself—once he’d defeated Asmodeus. Permanently. Once the world was set to rights.

Finally, they reached their destination, and Magnus pulled Alec to a stop beside him.

“Well, here we are,” he announced. “The spot in the city where the barrier to hell is the thinnest.”

Alec stared at him, unblinking. “This is a Bank of America.”

“As I said. Now, we just have to make our way to the basement.”

Alec observed the bank dubiously. It was midday, and the lobby was busy, people streaming in and out of the glass front doors.

“Please tell me we’re not going to break into this bank.”

“Nothing so involved.” Magnus waved a hand and glamours settled over them both.

Alec frowned. “What did you do?”

“Glamour. Now we should be able to just walk in without being noticed.”

“So we’re invisible?”

“That’s once way of applying a glamour,” Magnus told him, “but in this case it’s more like… they’ll see us, but their minds will convince them we’re no trouble. Since we’re just dealing with mundanes, it doesn’t have to be as elaborate.”

They made their way towards the front door, slipping in behind a patron.

“You could make a pretty good heist team with this,” Alec commented.

The thought had crossed Magnus’s mind more than once during particularly dull periods of his life.

“One project at a time, darling.”

They successfully slipped behind the teller desk and headed for the door to the stairs. No one paid them any mind.

“It feels good to have magic to do this again,” Magnus said as he twisted his hand to unlock the door.

Alec smiled indulgently and opened his mouth to respond, but was cut off by another voice:

“Excuse me, just what do you think you’re doing?”

They both turned slowly.

A burly security guard was standing there, staring directly at them.

“Uh, Magnus?” Alec said, his voice tilting up nervously. “She can see us.”

The guard glared at him. “What are you, high? What, you think it’s fun to get high and come rob a bank?”

Magnus stared down at his hands as if he could find the flaw in his magic somewhere in his palms. She shouldn’t be able to _see_ them.

“We’re not actually robbing—” Alec started, but Magnus yanked on his arm to shut him up.

Maybe, he reasoned, this guard had the Sight. Some mundanes did. It didn’t necessarily mean anything was wrong with his glamour.

But, oh God, another guard was coming over now, _also_ staring right at them—

Alec was starting to silently panic beside him, so Magnus tried to force himself to think. He could _not_ get Alec arrested for bank robbery.

Should they fight? But they were outnumbered. And the guards were armed. Magnus didn’t particularly want to get _shot_ , either.

“Well?” the guard was demanding, hand resting on her pistol.

“Oh, look at that!” Magnus shouted, throwing out a burst of magic.

What he meant to do was set off the fire alarms. He certainly did _not_ mean to light all the desks on _fire_ , but unfortunately that was what happened. This did, however, have the secondary effect of setting off the alarms as originally intended.

People started screaming, and the guard turned toward the chaos, and Magnus grabbed Alec by the arm and pulled him through the door and into the stairwell.

“I take back what I said about the heist team,” Alec said as they ran down the stairs. “Let’s not do that.”

Magnus didn’t respond, too busy staring at his hands. What was going _on?_ His command over his magic might not be what it once was, but it shouldn’t be as uncontrollable as _that_.

He was so busy staring at his hands that he almost tripped over his own feet, and Alec had to catch his arm to steady him.

“Hey,” he said, concerned, “how was she able to see us? I thought no one could see past the glamours.”

“She shouldn’t have been able to,” Magnus said as they reached the bottom of the stairs. “I— something’s wrong.”

He could feel it properly now that they were in the basement, closest to where the portal to Edom had once been. The portal that Magnus had nearly died sealing so many years ago.

Something was stirring in the air, a change in the magical currents. Magnus had been here several times in the past century to check on the solidity of the barrier. It had never changed or faltered. But now—

Now, the ambient magic felt significantly more demonic. It made the hair on the back of his neck stand on end, like his father was breathing on it, whispering in his ear.

“This is bad,” Alec said.

Magnus turned to look at him in surprise. “You can feel that, too?”

Alec nodded. “I don’t know what it is,” he said hesitantly, “but I can feel that something’s not… right. This room makes me feel kind of ill.”

It would, with his angelic blood.

“My father’s trying to break through,” Magnus guessed. “That’s why everything feels so… demonic.”

“He can’t get through, right?”

Magnus shook his head. “I poured all my magic into the seal. He may be able to slip a few demons or other small beings through, but it should hold against him.”

He stepped up to the nearest wall, reaching into the fabric of the building with his magic. As the bank had been built, it had started absorbing the little pieces of Edom that slipped through from the other side, and Magnus’s seal had followed these traces. Now his hundred-year-old magic was entwined with the walls themselves.

Magnus felt his way through the brick, examining the traces of his work. It all seemed to be intact, though that didn’t explain the strong currents of demonic energy rippling through the air—

“Uh, Magnus?” Alec called out, “Is this what you meant by a ‘small being’?”

Magnus turned around slowly.

Crouching on the far side of the room was a very, very large dog that had definitely not been there a moment ago. Or at least, Magnus thought, it hadn’t been _visible._

The dog regarded them unblinkingly, slobber dripping from its jowls. Magnus wasn’t sure it was actually breathing, but it was definitely watching them, he could feel the weight of its gaze on his skin.

A prickle of fear shot up his spine. There must be something really off with his magic for him not to have noticed _that._

“No, Alexander,” Magnus said mildly, “that’s a hellhound.”

“Oh, great,” said Alec. “What do we do about it?”

Magnus thought about it. It would be hard to just _kill it._ Hellhounds were largely resistant to demonic magic, as they drew on its power themselves.

What they really needed was a seraph blade, but it was too late for that.

“Portal out?” Alec suggested, voice tense.

Magnus tried. He pulled at his magic.

It was _so_ resistant. He felt suffocated by the energy of the basement, his lungs getting tight.

He pulled again, yanking at his core.

A lightbulb exploded overhead.

“Magnus?”

Magnus gritted his teeth. “It’s not letting me.”

Alec offered his hand. “Can you use mine?”

Magnus shook his head. “Without control over my own magic, I won’t be able to wield it.”

They were on their own.

Alec slowly tugged something from his waistband, eyes on the hellhound which was still calmly watching them, unmoving.

Magnus looked at the kitchen knife in Alec’s hand. “You _brought_ that?”

“You tell me we’re going to the border of hell and you think I’m _not_ going to bring a weapon? Somehow, I didn’t think _Taekwondo_ would be very effective against a demon.”

“You’d be surprised,” Magnus muttered. In all honesty, the knife wouldn’t be very effective either, but it had to be better than nothing.

Alec looked from the hellhound to Magnus and back again. He started to whisper, “Do you think it’s—”

The dog leapt to its feet and charged him.

Magnus was powerless to help, his magic a banked fire within him, inaccessible—but he ran for him anyway. He’d jump in front of Alec if he had to. There was a chance, however slim, that the hellhound—being one of his father’s subjects—wouldn’t hurt him.

A hand wrapped around his arm.

Time slowed around him. Dust hung in the air. Magnus slowly turned around, already knowing what he would find.

Asmodeus stood before him just as Magnus remembered him from this morning—an encounter he was starting to suspect was more than just a dream. Crisp suit, long unruly hair, eyes like chips of amber complete with the flies that got trapped in it.

He was a projection. Magnus _knew_ he was a projection, a sliver of Asmodeus’s soul that he was able to slip through from Edom. But that didn’t seem to matter when the weight of his hand _felt_ real.

“My son,” Asmodeus crooned. “It’s _so_ good to see you again.”

Magnus shook his hand off, unnerved. “Let us go.”

Asmodeus frowned in false sympathy. “Is your magic acting up? It’s poor timing for that, don’t you think?”

His gaze fell on Alec, who, in slow motion, was trying to ward off the hellhound with his knife. Magnus knew that the thing would have ripped him to shreds already, especially after scenting his Nephilim blood, if Asmodeus hadn’t been holding it off. Letting it play with him.

“Let him go,” Magnus repeated.

“I think it’s good for him to understand what he’s getting into, don’t you think?”

Magnus’s heart panged. He had never wanted this, any of this, for Alec, but he couldn’t deny Asmodeus had a point. _This_ would be his life now, if he stayed with Magnus. If he _fought_ with Magnus.

Magnus couldn’t bear to see Alec get hurt again.

“What do you want?” he demanded, turning his gaze back on Asmodeus.

“You have to ask?” Asmodeus drawled. “All I want is what’s _right_.”

“What’s right for you.”

“For _you_ ,” Asmodeus corrected, pointing at Magnus’s chest. “I want you to own your power. Your _position_. Don’t you want that for yourself?”

“Do I want to destroy the world with you? Not really,” Magnus said.

“Then how about I sweeten the pot? Offer a little _positive reinforcement_.” He paced around the edges of the room, rubbing his fingers together in thought. “No destruction. Your precious _world_ can stay the way it is, with all your precious _mortals_ in it.” He pointed at Alec. “Including that one.”

Magnus laughed. “You’re lying. You’re just going to give up on your _kingdom?_ ”

Asmodeus shrugged. “There are many ways to build a kingdom,” he said cryptically. “What are the lives of mortals to me?” He offered a smile that Magnus thought was meant to be warm but just looked predatory. “Especially when it will make my beloved son happy.”

Magnus folded his arms across his chest, hugging himself.

“Think carefully, Magnus,” said Asmodeus. “I wouldn’t want him to be _puppy chow_.”

They both turned to watch Alec slash at the hellhound with his knife, only for it to leap up and knock him to the floor. Magnus flinched.

The thing was, it wasn’t just about _this_ hellhound, _this_ threat. Even if he refused Asmodeus now, even if he managed to get Alec out of the hellhound’s jaws, Asmodeus would always come for him again. The world would always be in danger. His friends would always be in danger.

 _Alec_ would always be in danger.

There was only one way this could end, and it wasn’t like this, with innocent people at risk. It wasn’t here, with Alec within Asmodeus’s grasp.

Magnus blinked rapidly, letting his heart squeeze in his chest briefly before pushing the feeling down. He wouldn’t let Asmodeus see him cry.

“Fine,” he said.

Asmodeus blinked, momentarily surprised, before his expression eased into a possessive warmth that sent a shiver up Magnus’s spine.

“I knew,” he said, “I always knew you would come back to me.” He came closer slowly, one step at a time, and folded Magnus into his arms. Magnus froze in his embrace, restraining himself from pushing him away. “Welcome back, my son.”

Magnus squeezed his eyes shut and tried to breathe normally.

Finally, Asmodeus stepped away, casting a disinterested glance at Alec and the hellhound. “Finish this nonsense, Magnus. And then come to me. I’ll be waiting for you.”

Then he was gone.

Time sped back up, and with it came Magnus’s magic, surging through his veins again uninhibited.

He snapped his fingers, and the hellhound turned to ash, easy as breathing.

Alec scrambled to his feet. He seemed unharmed, but Magnus rushed to him anyway, running his hands down Alec’s chest. “Darling, are you alright?”

“Yeah, I—” Alec swallowed, shaken. “It didn’t really attack me? I don’t know what—”

“Another of my father’s tricks, I’m afraid,” Magnus said. “Come, let’s go home.”

He spun open a portal.

Alec stared at it. “Your magic? Is it—?”

“I’ll explain later,” Magnus said. Not that he was planning to explain at all. If he told Alec about his encounter with Asmodeus, Alec would figure out what he was planning, and that—

—that couldn’t happen.

“Come along, darling.” He took Alec’s hand. “Let’s get you home.”

Alec definitely knew something was wrong. Magnus could tell by the way he was looking at him, this sort of furrowed brow look—worried, but trying to hide it.

“So,” he began as they sat at the table, eating dinner. Or rather, picking at dinner, in Magnus’s case. “Did you find out what you needed to?”

Magnus was staring off into the distance and almost didn’t hear him. “What?”

Alec tilted his head, trying to catch his eyes. “At the bank. Did you find out what you needed to? The barrier to hell, and all that?”

Magnus shook himself. “Well, the hellhound threw a bit of a wrench in those plans, but the seal does seem to be holding, which is encouraging.”

“Right.” Alec watched Magnus stab a piece of broccoli with his fork, contemplate it, then put it back down on the plate. “Hey, are you okay?”

“Of course,” Magnus said automatically. Alec gave him a _look._

For a moment, Magnus considered telling him everything. A part of him desperately wanted Alec to talk him out of it. To hold him close and tell him they would figure this out.

 _Don’t let me leave you_ , he wanted to beg.

Then he pictured the hellhound on Alec’s chest, tearing open his face instead of just playing with him. Pictured the demon that had started all of this ripping open Alec’s shoulder. Pictured Alec pushing him out of its path.

No, he had to finish this on his own. He couldn’t let anyone else get hurt on his behalf. Especially not his Alexander.

 _“Fine,”_ he admitted, “I don’t like watching my boyfriend get chewed on by a hellhound, alright?”

Alec reached across the table to take his hand. “Hey, I’m okay now. We’re both okay.”

Magnus closed his eyes, overcome by the reassurance—something so simple, yet so affecting when he knew he’d be missing it soon. 

To his great shame, he felt tears pricking at the corners of his eyes, and then they were sliding down his cheeks, faster and faster. He swiped frantically at them.

“Hey, hey, hey, it’s okay.” Alec rushed around the table and crouched before him, pulling Magnus into his arms. “Shh, it’s okay.”

Magnus buried his face in his shoulder, feeling desperately pathetic. He broke down this easily and he thought he could take on _Asmodeus?_

Alec held him close, one hand cupping the back of his head. Magnus couldn’t bear the thought of losing him.

He’d meant for this evening to be nice. Comforting. A last supper of sorts, a way to fortify himself for what he was about to do. He’d thought that maybe if he focused hard enough, he could absorb the warmth of Alec’s body into his skin like armor. 

But Alec holding him, touching him—it just made him think of what he was walking away from.

“You wanna tell me what’s really going on, now?” Alec asked quietly.

Magnus shook his head. “Later.”

And Alec, bless him, damn him, didn’t press him on it.

Leaving Alec alone in bed was one of the hardest things Magnus had ever had to do. Each move that he made to slip out of Alec’s arms was agony, but he bore it stoically until he was standing before the bed, dressed again in street clothes, looking down at his sleeping boyfriend.

He pressed two fingers to Alec’s forehead, sending a gentle pulse of magic through him that would ensure he slept through till morning. Then he leaned down to kiss him gently.

“I’m coming back,” he promised quietly, even though Alec couldn’t hear him. “I’m coming back to you.”

For his own sanity, he had to believe it would be true.

“I love you,” he told Alec, gratified when his voice didn’t waver.

Magnus touched Alec’s cheek gently, taking a moment to memorize his face.

Then he opened a portal.

The road outside the bank was quiet in the late hour, just a few pedestrians wandering about. Magnus made his way towards the front entrance.

“Magnus?”

He froze at the familiar voice, turning around slowly.

Isabelle was standing before him, dressed for a night out. Magnus forced a smile. “Isabelle, dear, what are you doing out at this hour?”

“I’m meeting Simon at a concert,” she said. “The venue’s down the street. What are _you_ doing out?”

“Just… running some errands,” Magnus said vaguely.

“At _10 pm?_ Where’s Alec?”

It was interesting, Magnus thought, that they already spent so much time together that Alec’s sister thought of them as a packaged set. He tried not to dwell on it.

“At home resting. We had a bit of a long day,” Magnus said.

Isabelle stepped closer, frowning. “Are you okay? You look upset.”

“Yes, I’m fine, thank you, dear.”

“My brother didn’t do something, did he?”

Magnus’s heart clenched painfully at how she was willing to defend his feelings against her own brother. He didn’t think Isabelle would feel so charitably towards him after what he was about to do.

“No, your brother is lovely. I’m just tired, is all.”

Izzy pulled him into a hug. “You need to take better care of yourself. Or let Alec, he likes doing that.”

Magnus swallowed thickly. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

Izzy pulled away, looking at the time on her phone. “Shit, I’m running late. You sure you’re going to be okay?”

Magnus plastered a hopefully-convincing smile onto his face. “I’ll be just fine, dear.”

When she had gone, Magnus straightened his spine and his jacket, heading into the bank.

It was time to end this once and for all.

The truth was, somewhere in his heart, Magnus had always known it would come to this. Had always known that someday it would be him and his father on the sands of Edom until only one was left standing.

So he had prepared for it.

What he had never told Cat and Ragnor, never told anyone, was that after the first battle, when he’d sealed away the demon realms—Magnus had left himself a keyhole.

A tiny, tiny little sliver of an opening that widened into a doorway between this realm and Edom. Only his magic could open it, and it could only be opened from his side of the door.

But still, it could be opened. The impermeable wall was, in fact, permeable.

Standing in the dark, lonely basement of the bank, Magnus laid his hand flat on the wall, sent a pulse of magic into the dense fabric woven between his realm and Edom, found the spot known only to him, and _pressed_.

He watched as the glimmering outline of a doorway etched itself onto the wall and a portal shimmered into existence between its bounds.

There, on the other side, was Edom. And his father.

Magnus didn’t look back at what he was leaving behind. He just stepped through.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i guess i'll need to update it faster this time 
> 
> [tumblr](cuubism.tumblr.com) :)


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